


My Heart Is Beating Like A Jungle Drum

by nanamonella



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Tarzan Fusion, Disney Parody, Disney References, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Inspired by Disney, Inspired by Tarzan, M/M, Parody, jane!lance, rolo is clayton, tarzan au, tarzan!keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-18 09:50:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12385755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanamonella/pseuds/nanamonella
Summary: Lance, a member of the Second Holt Expedition to the Kerberos Rainforest, makes an unexpected discovery.





	1. Tarzan Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nibi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nibi/gifts).



> Binge-watching Disney videos on youtube may lead you to write strange things.
> 
> This one is for [Nibi](http://nibi-nix.tumblr.com/), who had doubts about the idea of Keith being Tarzan, so naturally I had to write this, to show her it would work. Love you, bb. <3 I na zaś - wszystkiego najlepszego! <3  
> I would also love to dedicate to you [this gem from the 90's](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glOjlpMIsEI%0A/) <3  
> Big thanks to my [Son](http://ohbells.tumblr.com/), who held my Nunvill and was my beta, allowing me to drag her into Voltron in the process.
> 
> Last, but not least, shout-out to the lovely [Ghost](ghostmoonchild.tumblr.com/) who encouraged me and was always there to chat. :'3

“Nooo, my hair! I hate humidity! So! Fucking! Much!” Exclaimed one of the strangers he’d been following for a while now. This one seemed to be the loudest of the bunch.

“Oh, come on, pretty boy. Don’t be a drama queen. We’re in the middle of a jungle, no one cares about your looks here,” said short one with strange circles on her or his face.

“No, Pidge, you don’t understand…!”

“Guys! Quiet now. You're making so much noise you're gonna scare off all the animals.”

That was the tallest creature that was a blur of contrastive colours and a strange-looking hand. His voice was strong and confident. He could be easily identified as the leader. Another stranger standing next to him, the one with a long stick, rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, Shiro…” muttered loud one.

At that time, he couldn’t have known that, but the loud one’s name was Lance. 

And Lance was a man of principle. Very adamant about his skincare routine, too. As aware as he was that during the expedition his “me time” would need to be sacrificed, for jungles usually weren't the best places to indulge yourself in extensive beauty rituals, the reality was so much worse than he had imagined. And the things the humidity was doing to his hair!

“You still look great,” Lance heard a whisper. Hunk.

Bless his heart. Hunk understood.

Because, you see, some people may call Lance vain, and he would sometimes agree that there was a little bit of vanity to it, sometimes he would pretend as if it was the only thing that was there, but it wasn't the truth.

In fact, Lance was rather self-conscious, and the routine he developed over the years was not only to take care of his body, but also to put a spell on the reality. Looking good boosted his confidence; it served as an armour helping him keep his bravado in the moments of self-doubt. And after a rough day, following the routine made him feel grounded, secure - it allowed him to relax.

Not to mention that seeing a nice looking face in the mirror after he woke up made getting up less of a hassle. And Lance was not a morning person. He valued his sleep very much. Very much.

And Hunk understood. They’ve known each other for a long time, and Lance wouldn't be surprised if his best friend knew him better than he knew himself.

They both knew Lance needed his magic now. It was his very first expedition and he was equally as excited as terrified.

But there he was - a member of the Second Holt Expedition.

The Kerberos Rainforest, widely known as the Kerberos Jungle, had always stimulated people’s imagination. Many had dreamed of uncovering its secrets, but only a few dared to do so. One of those who did was Samuel Holt, the leader of the First Holt Expedition. Together with his son, Matthew Holt, he gathered a team of scientists to explore the wildlife of this mysterious forest, with a particular species in their interest, and with an old journal dating two centuries back as their inspiration. The small party was eager, however, completely unprepared for what the jungle had up its sleeve. Tropical diseases took a toll on them, and if it wasn’t the sickness, surely the wildlife took care of them. Nobody was spared. 

The jungle was very protective of its secrets.

Though that expedition was hardly a success, it wasn’t a complete failure either.

Above all, it provided answers for some questions. It raised a new ones, too, ones, that no one wanted to answer. The public and other scientists deemed it too dangerous to just go after a romantic tale from the old days.

That was until Katie “Pidge” Holt took the matters into her own hands, wanting to bring her father’s work into completion and prove that he was not a madman, but a scientist with a great intuition. She firmly believed that her father was right, and that in the heart of the forest lived an unknown species, only briefly described in a journal that had been a starting point for Samuel Holt’s expedition.

A few good years had passed since the last expedition. The advancements in technology prompted new discoveries and inspired innovations; the First Holt Expedition could only dream of the resources available for their successors. It would seem as if the new team would have a decisive advantage. Still, it wasn’t enough. Doors after doors had been closing right in front of Pidge’s face.

But she, despite the odds, had been persistent.

Her father was no longer there to guide her. Her brother, although unwilling to come back to the jungle and uncertain about the idea, eventually agreed to help her out by creating a research project so good it was nearly perfect.

And finally, the luck was on Pidge’s side.

The Institute Of Natural History of Altea took interest in their project. Careful plans were made, a team recruited. And among them was Shiro, one of the original members of the first expedition to the damned forest.

Some believed it unwise or even insane for him to go back there, and as a leader on the top of that.. To return to the place that had crippled him so cruelly.

But he was tired of the nights when he’d wake up screaming, covered in a cold sweat. The fight for life, the dagger-sharp teeth tearing his flesh, the wild look in the rabid eyes - those memories were especially vivid at night. Shiro was tired. So he made his choice to come back and face his fears. The jungle might have took his hand, but it won’t ever take his courage. 

So he was coming back for his own benefit, but also for Holts', for they were like family to him. 

Shiro and Matt had been best friends for so long he could barely remember the times when they were not together causing some mischief. Shiro was as much a part of Matt’s family, as Matt was a part of his. They were bros for life. He remembered how excited they were about the first expedition, feeling like they could do anything. Until they couldn’t. 

And now? He could do nothing for Samuel, but he could be there for Matt, to make sure their little stubborn Pidgeon was safe. And for Katie, to make sure she’ll reach her goal.

And that’s how he found himself in the middle of the damned Kerberos with Pidge and others: Lance, Hunk and Rolo.

Apart from the fact that Rolo was hired by the Institute to protect the team on the expedition, Shiro didn’t know much about him. Rolo had this cool air around him, was easy to befriend; he seemed competent enough and even genuinely interested in their studies, even if he lacked scientific knowledge. During their travel to the jungle it turned out Rolo made a great companion - whether you needed silence or a good story. And he had many of the latter.

Shiro knew Hunk and Lance were Katie’s friends from the university. Pidge talked about them at length, and her stories did them justice. Shiro enjoyed working with them, even if sometimes he couldn’t help but worry about their safety, the boys’ as well as Pidge’s, because sometimes he saw too much of younger Matt and himself in his younger companions.

Hunk was a healthy dose of sunshine and sass, although overly cautious at times and sometimes just plain anxious. But he was an invaluable source of information about local flora and, bless him, a great cook. Actually, he seemed like the only member of their research team competent enough to be anywhere near their makeshift kitchen. Not to mention that he was also a handyman.

And Lance was a very energetic man, always ready to spring into action. Come hell or high water, when he set his mind on something, nothing could stop him. He was determined and adaptive, with a keen eye on details. Without his observative remarks and his notebook filled with accurate sketches, the research team would be completely lost. And thanks to his good social skills, he always knew his way around others, and having many tricks up his sleeve allowing him to avoid potential conflict and lighten the mood.

Sudden sound of a rifle shot interrupted Shiro’s musings as well as Lance’s silent cursing of the humidity.

“Rolo? What's going on? Is something there?”

“I thought I’ve heard something.”

Shiro took a deep breath, adrenaline raging in his blood. Calm down, calm down, at ease, Shiro.

“Uh, okay, Rolo. Look, sorry. Excuse me. This expedition… we came here to study galra. We’re trying to find them. Any sign of them. I think your shooting might be scaring them off.”

“The Institute hires me to protect you, that's what I’m paid for. Let me do my job.”

“And you're doing wonderful, Rolo, you really do,” chimed in Lance, “but our time here is somewhat limited, and you see, shooting around-”

They were interrupted by sudden scream and the joyful glee following it.

“Guys, guys! Look around! Do you see what you're standing in? A galra’s nest! A nest!” Pidge was ecstatic.

“Oh, Pidge! You’re right! I wonder which galra does it belong to. Galra galra? Or maybe… Galra marmora?” Hunk kneeled to inspect the nest.

That picked up Rolo’s interest. 

“Finally! A sign of those galra beasts! Do you think they could be anywhere near?”

Pidge rolled her eyes.

“Well, they could be, Rolo. Here’s the evidence, you know. And maybe they would still be here if someone hadn't started shooting.”

Rolo rolled his eyes. 

“Only we don't know if they're marmoras…” noted Shiro, looking thoughtfully at the nest.

“Oh, Shiro, don't ruin the moment. Let us be delusional for a while.”

Lance’s joyful glee caught their attention.

“Guys, look! Over there and there and-”

Pidge’s eyes lit up.

“Yes! More nests! I see them!”

“Just as your father predicted!”

“Family groups!” Shiro and Pidge shared a smile.

“Maybe the journal my father found was closer to the truth than we thought…? Look at this, family groups…”

Rolo snorted.

“Family groups? Excuse me, I know you're scientists and finding those nests is very exciting for you, but let's not forget those are wild animals we're talking about here. Wild animals that would rather kill you than look at you. There's no way those creatures bond over tea and biscuits.”

“On the contrary, Rolo. The theory in the journal, as well as my father’s theory, is that these are social creatures-” the riffle interrupted Pidge. “Rolo, for fuck’s sake! What if it's a galra? What if it's a marmora?”

Rolo didn't seem convinced. Clearly suspicious, he was eyeing the trees?

Lance was looking around as Hunk held his arm anxiously. Nothing seemed out of place, but then again, how could he be sure, when every next tree started looking the same as the last one the longer he looked? Everything was bluring. Maye there really was something lurking among the trees, something he was missing? Maybe Rolo was right? But what if it were the creatures they came to study?

“It's no galra. We should move.”

Hunk was very supportive of the idea, the prospect of leaving possibly dangerous place very tempting.

“Yes, indeed. Now we should keep heading in that direction…"

The big man let go of his best friend’s arm and moved forward. The rest of the group followed.

Lance sighed. Research gonna be hard if Rolo will shot at every possible creature. He looked around at the nests and was about to follow his team when something hit his head.

“Ouch!”

A fruit.

Lance was about to curse whatever threw the damn fruit at him, but then he remembered where he was, and what had happened just a few seconds ago. Then he got scared.

Sudden move in the corner of his eye almost caused him heart attack. But when he discovered the culprit, a baby baboon, he only laughed.

“Oh, so you're the one all the fuss was about? Guys, guys! Come back here! Quick! Oh, no, no, no, not you, cutie. You wait, hold still. You may not be galra, but you're such an adorable-” he murmured taking his faithful notebook and a pencil to draw a quick sketch of the monkey.

“Aw, where did you go? Come back,” he pleaded when he noticed the baboon was no longer there, but lightened up when he felt it climbing up his arm. “Oh, you want to see? There you go, what do you think? I must admit I did you justice.” Having adjusted his notebook, he presented it for the monkey to see.

The baboon was clearly pleased with the sketch, and apparently wanted to try its hand at being an art collector, as it snached the whole notebook right from Lance’s grasp. Only to run away ripping off the pages it deemed worthless.

“Why, you little-!”

Lance was scandalized. Fuming, he followed the trail of the ripped off pages, collecting them as he went. Researcher had no idea that someone was following him, curiously picking up pieces of paper he had missed.

“Well, absolutely fantastic! Come to study galras and get your notebook stolen by a baboon brat! Aghr! So no bueno, Lancey!”

He finally caught up with the monkey, which was currently admiring its portrait under the nearest tree, while sitting comfortably on its roots. Lance felt like he was dealing with one of his insolent nieces or nephews (that he loved to the bone, no matter how many times he would say he would give them away for free or even pay the person that would take them after a night of babysitting duty).

Resting his hands on his hips, Lance faced the baboon, and gave the monkey a Very Meaningful Look Of A Displeased Adult. He was careful to accentuate each word with disapproval.

“Give. Me. The. Notebook.”

He rolled his eyes when the monkey turned its back at him hugging torn page closely. Of course it would be that kind of brat. Of course.

“Oh, come on now, enough of this. I want this paper on the count of three. One, two,” he showed the numbers on his fingers and suddenly bent to point at something behind the baboon, “oh look, bananas!”

When the monkey turned its little head to look for bananas, Lance snatched the paper back with practised ease. He did it countless times to his siblings (as they did to him). After securing the page under his belt, he took another look at the baboon. Its dumbfounded look made Lance cackle uncontrollably. 

“I can't believe you fell for that one.”

The baboon sniveled.

“Oh, right, of course. As if I would fall for your crocodile tears. If only your parents saw you now…”

Sudden snarl froze the blood in his veins. 

Well, he was about to learn exactly what the parents would have to say. Clearly, they weren’t pleased. The adult baboons were mad. And so were their friends and acquaintances. One glimpse at their teeth presented in a vicious monkey smiles and nasty looks were enough for Lance to figure that out. Unfortunately, they were not pissed at the little rascal. They were mad at Lance.

“Quiznak.”

He laughed nervously.

““Ah, haha. Just as I thought, they're cross. But hey, hey, it's just a kid! Don't be too stern, okay? Children will be children and all that…”

Trying to back off slowly, he wished he had Rolo and his rifle with him (where did everyone go, by the way? Lance could swear he was just behind them), but he run out of his luck, apparently. He tripped.

It was as if the monkeys were waiting for him to do so. The very moment he hit the ground, they lashed out. He got up in a record time and run, run for his life.

He had no idea where he was heading but he hoped the road would take him far, far away from the mad monkeys.

Apparently it lead to a precipe.

Quiznaking peachy.

Lance’s choices were, to put it mildly, limited. Either a leap of faith or getting torn to shreds by mad baboon parents accompanied by extended family and neighbours.

So he did it.

He closed his eyes.

He jumped.

He was prepared to feel the gravity pulling him down, and was very ready to pray for either a soft landing or painless death.

But it never happened.

Instead of falling down Lance was moving forward. He opened his eyes and looked down only to see the trees staying somewhere behind him.

“Oh… Oh… Oh my… Where did the ground go? Am I flyi…”

Yup. Fucking flying. Lance jerked his head up to examine his sudden ability to soar through the air.

He screeched.

As he discovered, he was held by the belt. By a man. By a very naked man. Well, not entirely naked, he had a loincloth, but other that that? Sweet quiznak, he was naked.

He, Lancey Lance, met a fucking Tarzan.

Still, he couldn’t allow his thoughts to consume him further as something else was gnawing at him. Quite literally. One of the baboons managed to get him. Lance started yelling at the monkey to get off him as if it would listen. He kicked the animal off, losing one of his boots.

Damn monkey!

And the next second he was screaming again, as Mr Tarzan thought throwing him suddenly up in the air was a brilliant idea. Fortunately, both of them landed on a branch of some big ass tree. Tarzan boy caught Lance. Bridal style. 

Outrageous. 

“Down! Down! Put me down!”

The researcher smacked the man, demanding to be put down but barely had his feet touched the branch when he noticed baboons charging at them, so he jumped back into the man’s arms without hesitation. 

“Oooh no, no, nononononono! Up! Pick me up!”

So they were running away again and the rest of the story was rollercoaster and acrobatics. Lance had lost count how many times he’d been thrown up in the air, only to find his way back to the secure (and pleasantly muscular) grip of the stranger in various, more or less dignified positions, and how many changes of direction there were on their way: up, down, left, right, upside down, forward, a rotation here, a turn there. He was amazed his bony labyrinth hadn’t went loco.

Lance was certain he was going to die.

Especially when they slid through an old empty trunk that obviously had to fall apart in the middle of their ride, and the free fall had begun. Lance was saying his last prayer. Pardon, he was _screaming_ his last prayer.

But man, the Tarzan boy was really something, swinging on the lianas like a pro. Well, you could probably call him a pro, mused Lance in a brief moment of awe. But then he went back to being terrified.

A few bone-breaking liana maneuvers later, he was pressed to a tree trunk, Tarzan boy shielding the researcher with his body. Lance saw the remnants of an empty trunk falling down, and closing his eyes, he held his breath. He could feel the tremble of the branch they were standing on as it broke. 

But their feet still touched the solid branch.

Lance dared to open his eyes and peer above stranger’s shoulder. Their branch was broken just behind the Tarzan boy. That was a close one. But, unless they were hit by one of the falling, screaming monkeys, they were relatively safe.

Suddenly, a baboon parent accompanied by an insolent brat of its child appeared right before them hanging from one of the lianas. It started making noises, waving its hand like it was talking to them, or rather complaining about something. That was interesting.

But interesting took a sudden turn into the Loco Lane when Tarzan boy answered. 

What. The. Actual. Quiznak. 

He looked tentatively between the man and the baboons, and started his slow retreat around the trunk, when the Tarzan suddenly turned in Lance’s direction.

Lance yelped.

Tarzan regarded him with a searching look, and having detected what he was looking for, he went for it. The boy grabbed a page with a baby baboon sketch tucked under Lance’s belt. He showed it to the monkey, and when the baboon made a sound of approval, handed it to the brat.

It was a little overwhelming for Lance.

When the Tarzan boy was still busy with the baboons, Lance made his way to the other side of the trunk, looking for a way to go down, and miraculously find his way back to the camp.

“Oh, I'm in a tree with a man who talks to monkeys!”

Not what he expected from this expedition.

The researcher looked around, and decided to risk getting to the next tree.  


Alright. Time to test his flexibility. 

He went for a split. 

So far so good. 

After securing himself with his hands against the trunk, Lance let his other leg join the first. Now, if only he could push himself hard enough to get the rest of his body to that other tree… Quiznak, he was so high above the ground...

“Dios mío! I’m never gonna make it! I-” the researcher lamented, trying to shift his leg. “Oh, o-okay. So far so good, so good. Okay, Lancey, one, two... Agrh!”

That was a rather unsuccessful attempt. Which probably got Lance stuck in a compromising position.

“Brilliant. But there’s no way it can get any worse, right?” He asked and, immediately, heavens replied with rain. “Obviously it can.”

Lance closed his eyes and let his head hung low. He sighed deeply. That’s not how he envisioned this expedition. However, mulling over it wouldn't help, and what he needed was to try again, and maybe shelter himself from the rain. Later he would come up with a plan on how to get back to the camp. Yes. He could do that. Go Lancey.

He opened his eyes and screeched again as the very same Tarzan boy who was talking to the monkeys, and who Lance was trying to escape from, was right in front of him. 

Staring. 

Very intently.

Lance pushed himself off the trunk so hard he nearly landed where he aimed to. Nearly. There was still a high chance of falling, since he couldn’t find his balance to actually get there.

Tarzan pushed Lance a little, saving him again.The researcher landed flat on his ass and, feeling finally something stable under his body, moved back as fast as he could to create some distance between him and the wildman.

Tarzan was having none of that.

“Stay back, no, don't come any closer, please don't.”

Personal space was a foreign concept for this wild man. He was way too close. And staring too much. 

Well, truth to be told, Lance also did his fair share of staring (some would call it ogling), now that his life finally wasn’t in immediate danger (because if the wildman wanted to kill him, he would be dead already, right?), and wasn’t thrown in every possible direction. 

In fact, he was quite mesmerised with the way raindrops traveled down that amazing muscular body. And besides the creepy intense stare, the wildling had a good-looking face, pleasant to look at. Not to mention the thick, black hair… True, it was styled into some unfortunate mullet, and could use a decent brush (no bueno really), but it was actually nice.

Tarzan was handsome in some wild, untamed manner, that shouldn’t probably work but was very appealing to more primitive parts of Lance’s brain.

After taking a closer look at the wilding, Lance also noticed how the man carried himself. His stance and moves were very galra-like, nothing like a human. And the way he moved around the trees, high above the ground like he was born on a liana? The guy really was a Tarzan.

Speaking of moves - while Lance was half analyzing, half spacing out and admiring the hot man in front of him, the very same man moved even closer and took Lance’s bare foot in his hands.

“What are you doing?” Lance demanded an answer, or rather tried to, before he started giggling. He was ticklish. Tarzan kept touching his foot and wiggling his toes, very intrigued with the effect it had on Lance.

“Ah! Please don't. That tickles. Get off...”

Lance tried to free his foot from the man’s grasp, but laughing so hard he really was in no condition to fight for freedom.The wildman, seeing no resistance, started sniffing up Lance’s leg, trying to peer under the fabric of Lance’s pants.

“Get off, get off, get- GET OFF!” he yelled at the wildman kicking him right in a face. No perverted Tarzan was going to make a move on him in the middle of the jungle! Lance backed off even more, almost willing himself to become one with the trunk, as he hugged his legs protectively.

The researcher frowned, seeing the wildman’s scandalized face.

“It serves you right. Now you stay away from me, like a very good wild man. You stay!” He pointed his finger down, hoping to get his point across to the Tarzan. 

Vain hopes. He was nearing closer. And closer. And closer.

“I’m warning you! My teammates will get angry! For real! You- What are you doing? No, no, now, that’s close enough!”

The wildman cupped his face.

“You pervert monkey!”

He wanted to slap the monkey guy, but the wildman’s reflexes were quicker. Having caught Lance's gloved hand, he started looking at it as if it was one of the seven wonders. Then he reached to peel the tattered glove off of the researcher’s hand.

Lance was surprised how delicate, how tentative the man was now. In a slow, deliberate movement, he got rid of the glove, never letting Lance's hand out of sight. 

Fascinated, he run his calloused fingers over the researcher’s palm, and put Lance’s hand against his own. The wildman’s hand was rather pale, the skin rough, covered with a few fresh cuts (the reminders of their little misadventure) as well as some old scars here and there. His palm was boarder, fingers slightly shorter compared to Lance’s: slender, properly moisturised hand, fingers nimble and soft to touch.

The stranger’s eyes went wide.

He looked at Lance in disbelief. 

Then at their hands.

Then at Lance back again.

Then, the man suddenly launched himself forward scaring Lance, who in turn shut his eyes tightly, not really ready to see his end. Instead of a bite, or another form of torture dealt by the wildman, Lance felt a lock of hair tickling his chin. The tarzan was pressing his head to Lance’s chest.

Okay. He might live for a little bit longer.

Then he felt man’s hands on his face, tugging his head forward.

“Oh, Dios, DiosDiosdiosdios, oh!”

Okay. His spine was still intact. And for some reason, he found his ear pressed against the other man’s chest. Then he heard it. 

Oh. 

Tarzan wanted to show him his heartbeat. It was kind of… sweet? Gently he took the wildman’s hands away from his face, and straightened himself on a branch with a friendly smile.

“Yes, thank you. That's a lovely heartbeat. It's very nice.”

Lance subconsciously put his hands in his hair trying to fix it as he always did whenever he felt nervous or just needed time to think.

The wildman was amicable, and at that moment, Lance was willing to bet that he wouldn’t hurt him. And he knew his way around the forest, so maybe he would help him get to the camp? But how to communicate his need to this clueless Tarzan boy?

“It's very nice,” said the wildman.

“Oh, thank you, I can't do a thing with it in this humidity though, it's- Oh, you do speak!”

This put everything in a new light. A discovery. Curious sparks in his eyes, Lance closed the distance.

“And here I thought you were just a big, wild, quiet, scary, pervert Tarzan guy that’s going to end me. Why didn’t you tell me? You do realize I was literally dying, you know? You scared the shit out of me. And now I’m dying out of curiosity! I mean, I bet I look equally curious to you. I mean-”

The stranger cut him off by putting his hand against Lance’s mouth. He looked a little overwhelmed and confused. 

Oh. So much for verbal communication.

Tarzan boy opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if hesitating, but he made up his mind in the end, and started to make sounds. Or rather, repeating one particular sound. Lance concentrated hard to make something out of it.

“K… Keef…?” He tried. The wildman looked pleased.

Well, great, he got the sound right. But it did little to help Lance to overcome the communication issues he had with the man.

“Keef… Keef. What the hell is a “keef” in your language? Is it how you say “hello”?”

Tarzan raised his brow and seemed to consider something, seeing Lance’s confusion. The wildman cleared his throat at pointed at his chest. Well, yes, Tarzan boy, that's a very nice chest you have.

“Keef,” Lance heard again and then slower and longer. “Keeeeeef.”

“Keef?” Repeated Lance, and after the wildman pointed at himself and noded, Lance finally understood.. A name. “Keith?” Another nod. Lance smiled. “Oh, I see.”

Tarzan named Keith looked happy with the result.

“Oh, I see. Keith,” he said touching his chest, then motioned towards Lance. “Ohisee.”

Lance shook his head.

“No, no, no, no. I'm Lance.”

Keith repeated not only his every word, but also every gesture Lance had no idea he made.

“No no no, no. I'm Lance.”

Oh, great. His new wildman friend was nothing but a parrot.

“No, no,” he said, this time more firmly. He motioned towards himself, mimicking Keith’s gestures. 

“Lance,” he said slowly, then pointed towards wildman. “Keith.” And again towards himself. “Laaance.” 

“Laaance.”

Lance sighed.

“We’ll work on that, Tarzan. I mean, Keith.”

“Lance.”

Finally!

“Good,” he smiled at the wildman. 

Suddenly, the sound of a flare flying high above the trees cut through the natural whispers of the forest. 

“Rolo!” Gasped Lance.

The Wildman grabbed the nearest liana and moved forward, half-hanging, half-standing, to get a better view.

Another flare came.

“Rolo!” Keith seemed intrigued by the sudden noise. As if looking for an approval, he looked back at Lance expectantly.

“Extraordinary!” whispered Lance. Wait, maybe that was his chance? “Um, please, can you take me to my camp?”

He pointed at the direction the sound came from. Keith looked that way. The flare lightened up the forest once again, now familiar noise following.

“Rolo!” The wildman turned to Lance.

“Yes, Rolo! Take me where Rolo is!” he pointed wildly at the direction. 

Keith seemed to take a hint as he pulled Lance closer by his waist. Oh no. Not another liana adventure. 

“Um, we, can't we waaaaaaalk?” screeched Lance, as his feet lost their support.

“We waaaaaaalk!” Keith joined Lance with his own joyous howl.

Meanwhile, when the echo carried Lance’s screams as he himself was carried by a certain wildman, the camp became very busy.

“Keith!” someone called.

“Keith? Keith! Where are you?” second voice, more worried, joined in. “Maybe he's lost. Or found something more interesting.”

“What are you, nuts, kitten? What could be more interesting than us?”

“I could name a few things more interesting than parents, tiger.”

We never know how his discussion would unfold, as they were cut off by their third silent companion. They encountered the camp.

“What is it Antok? Have you… Elephant shit! What is that?”

“Language, Thace.”

“Whatever. There are more important things than language now, Ulaz, dear. Keith? Keith, my little monkey! You there?”

“And that's why he complains you're embarrassing him, Thace…” murmured Ulaz, then tried louder: “Hello?”

The place was empty though. Thace looked around, raising his brow.

“What kind of primitive beasts are responsible for this mess?”

“That's rude, Thace. It seems like it’s someone's nest, however unusual. A family, maybe?”

Antok shrugged at Ulaz’s suggestion. Thace walked further to explore this weird nest.

“Hm, maybe it belongs to those weirdos that appeared lately?”

“Maybe,” agreed Ulaz, watching his mate approach some wooden construction with… He didn’t have a name for those, but they surely wouldn’t last long in Thace’s hands. Oh, dear, there they went. One of those things broke.

“Wow! Ulaz! Antok! Guys, come here, look at this!”

Three individuals, known as Thace, Ulaz and Antok, started roaming curiously around the camp.

“Fascinating…” breathed Ulaz.

“Dunno. Seems kind of sad they need so many things to survive. The forest will chew them and spit out their bones if they can't get by without those things. Like it did with those a few monsoons ago. And those way before them. I think they were the same species?”

“But, Thace! On the other hand, just think! Think how creative they must be if they can make so many things. And some of them are really interesting. Look at this tool. It makes everything bigger. I wonder what do they need it for?”

“Aw, must have bad eyesight, poor things.”

A sudden crushing noise caught his attention. Antok was standing sheepishly next to the wooden thing, face troubled as he was looking down at the remains of… Something. Wherever it was, really. Must have hit it with his tail by an accident.

“Hey, I liked that sound! Do it again, Antok!”

“Thace!”

Antok shrugged, and did it again. Maybe it was just what it was meant to be done with it?

Thace joined him, smashing another object against the ground.

“Nice!”

“Thace,” pleaded Ulaz, “please, don't be a savage! You're a marmora not a monkey! You’re destroying their… Whatever these things are!”

“Oh, come on, kitten! Can’t you hear? There’s a melody to it! Come, dance with me,” he said, grabbing Ulaz, urging him to move.

“Still not an excuse!”

“Well, I’d say it serves them right? We had to abandon our nests when they came. And I really liked that nest.”

“Don’t you like our new nest?”

“Oh, Ulaz!” Thace spun the other around. “I love every nest as long as it has you in it.”

They could almost hear Antok rolling his eyes.

“Oh, come on, Antok. It’s not as you haven’t been all lovey-dovey with Kolivan.”

“Oh? Who would have thought,” smiled Ulaz.

“Yes, kitten, you should have seen them after they ate those overripe fruits. They were embarrassing,” smirked Thace.

Antok showed them his back not intending to take part in this conversation.

“You mean fermented fruits?” Ulaz raised his eyebrow.

“Doesn’t it mean that they’re overripe when they’re fermented? Hm, speaking of food, let’s check if those primitives have anything good here.”

Three marmoras started combing weird nest for anything edible. 

Ulaz sighed.

“What is it, dear?”

“I’m just worried…”

“Don't be, either we’ll find Keith or he’ll find himself as he always does.”

“No, no, Thace. It’s that I’m worried about him not finding a mate. Sometimes when I look at him he seems so lonely, even when hanging around with other younglings.”

“Oh, Ulaz. He’s a very fine young marmora. He’ll find himself a mate.” 

“I’m not denying he's a wonderful marmora in his prime, but if you hadn't noticed, he’s also insecure about his looks and fitting in. And he’s young, but an adult nonetheless, whether we like it or not. And even when he’s among his friends, it's like he's keeping to himself…”

“Well, he’s on the smaller side, pretty much without fur, and with quite an uncommon coat, but there's more to a marmora than just looks!” Reasoned Thace. “And it gives him this exotic quality, I guess? He’ll find a mate.”

Antok gave him a look, rising his brow. Ulaz sighed.

“I’m not saying that not mating is a bad thing, if that's his choice, Antok. It's just, I’m afraid it's rather lack of belief and opportunity than a choice, you know?”

“Maybe he's a late bloomer, kitten? Can’t really be sure given his… original ancestry. But in the end he’s a marmora, our finest little monkey.”

Ulaz smiled fondly at his mate.

“You're right. I’m probably worrying for no reason, and...”

Sudden movement above them and thud on the ground caught their attention.

“Keith!” Thace gave him a toothy grin.

“Keith!” 

Ulaz ran to his child with relief, and Keith rushed to him as well. They tumbled to the ground, Ulaz playfully locking Keith's head and ruffling his head fur.

“Keith! Finally! I was getting worried! You know those parts of the forest aren’t safe anymore, some creatures nested here, they could be dangerou…” his eyes grew wide. “Keith, look out!”

Keith looked behind his back and relaxed. It was just this weird loud… monkey? Whatever he was. Lance. He was strangely silent now, eyes wide and gleaming, mouth slightly agape. In addition, he was dishevelled from their trip, blush decorating his cheeks. 

Keith had to admit, he liked the way the stranger looked now.

Meanwhile, Lance couldn't believe his eyes. Their camp was pretty much ruined, but they all took it into accout, they were in the wild after all. But this? 

“Galras…” he gasped in awe.

He hoped to see some galras here, and there were even three of them. But never had he thought that he would see a wildman in a loincloth greeting playfully an adult galra like he was nothing but one of their own. Well, said wildman in a loincloth behaving just like the galra and nothing like human wasn't something Lance expected to see at all outside the cinema. 

Wait…

“He’s one of them…”

So familial… Not like the galra galra he studied before. Were they... Were they galra marmora? 

Extraordinary!

Smiling softly at the scene before him, Lance dared to come a little closer. The Galra that greeted Keith with such joy became wary. It sounded like it was trying to warn Keith. The wildman looked above his shoulder and upon noticing Lance, started making reassuring sounds of his own. They were laced with undertones of excitement and amusement. To Lance it sounded like some kind of language. Maybe the communication between galras was more refined than science had claimed so far?

Lance wondered what was his new Tarzan friend saying. “Hey, look what I found! Some weird monkey creature picking up fights with baboons! Fool! Don't worry, it's harmless, can't even climb trees properly and screams a lot!” Yeah. Sounds like something he would say to make the galra curious about Lance, instead of weary.

Keith pulled the galra’s arm, urging it to come closer to Lance. The wildman looked meaningfully at Lance, jerking his head to make him move. So he did. 

He took a few tentative steps towards Keith and the galra.

They looked at each other with great curiosity.

Lance smiled carefully, mindful not to show his teeth, in case the galra would find it threatening. He bent slightly, slowly reaching his open palm towards wildman’s companion.

“Hello,” he said quietly, gently.

The galra looked at Keith making a sound of its own. The wildman shrugged in response, but nudged his companion in the arm. And finally the galra started reaching back…

...only to take its arm away in a one swift move, ears flat. It looked uneasy, just like two other galras, he noticed. Lance took a look at Keith, searching for any clues. The wildman gulped looking uneasy like he was someone who royally fucked up and was screwed for life.

And then Lance felt it.

A hot breath against his neck.

He turned around very, very slowly.

The biggest garla he’d seen so far in his life was just standing before him. And it looked… Well. Let’s be delicate about the matter, and let’s just say that it was greatly, majorly displeased. And probably had a murderous intent.

“Dios mío…” he said weakly.

Then the galra roared.

And Lance screamed with utter horror.

He was so gonna die!

Lance fell to the ground covering his head. Maybe he should play dead? He totally should play dead. The galra above him bent down, terrifying researcher even more. He grabbed the nearest thing he could reach which happened to be one of Hunk’s frying pans. Equipped with such a fine weapon, he put it over his head, covering it from potential blow or a bite, at least for a time being.

He wasn’t sure what happened but he heard a distressed yelp from Keith, and then - more felt than saw - the big ass galra moving over him. It made a short noise, sharp as a command you’d follow without objection. Hearing the scary one and other galras moving away, Lance dared to raise his head.

The galras were disappearing among the trees, Keith included, but Lance could see he wasn’t willing to go. The wildman hesitated, turned back to look at Lance.

“Don’t go…” Lance pleaded, shaking his head.

He raised his hand, reaching towards the wildman. Keith looked like he wanted to mimic the gesture, but the galra, one that greeted him before, grabbed his hand and pulled, making urging sounds.

“LAAANCE!” he suddenly heard someone calling his name. Sounded like Hunk.

“Lance!”

Another voice. And more joined.

“Laaance, get your ass back here! You still need to beat me in that game!”

“Lance! Where are you?”

Keith shared one last look with him. And then he and the galra disappeared.

“LANCE! OH, MY GOD, YOU’RE HERE! I’M SO GLAD!”

He barely registered being crushed in one Hunk’s signature bear hugs.

“Yeah, I’m here…” he said silently, hollowly, still looking at where the mysterious wildman living with the galra vanished like a daydream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, some of those are dialogues from the movie, because, let's be honest - I don't think I would come up with anything better and I just loved the idea of Lance saying things Jane does and, yes, events in this chapter follow movie closely as a starting point to go their own way in later chapters.
> 
> Hope you liked it! :3
> 
> [nanamo](http://nanamo.tumblr.com/) @ tumblr


	2. Strangers Like Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance get reunited with his team and argues with Pidge over his sexual fantasies, while Keith is scolded by the leader and throws a tantrum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii! Belated Merry Christmas and a not late at all Happy New Year!
> 
> First things first, I want to thank you for all the lovely comments - I treasure each and every one of them. (And kudos as well! But being a social creature I love when you talk to me. Plus, this is my very first fic in English so I was/still am freaking out a bit, haha. ;;; And it’s really reassuring to read your comments. Also, if there’s something you think I could improve - take my hand as I make my baby steps and let me know! <3)
> 
> And sorry that I kept you waiting for so long! Life getting in a way is one thing, but I also got an unexpected invitation from my beta [Bells](http://ohbells.tumblr.com/), who wanted to try her hand in writing, to co-write a klance eurotrip au! Could I resist such offer? Of course, I couldn’t! [Here it is](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12935235/chapters/29561712) if you’d like to give it a try.
> 
> Now, let’s come back to the jungle and see what happens!

The others arrived right after Hunk stopping mid-step in shock. The camp was in utter disarray, it looked like a hurricane swept across it. Everything was out of place, knocked over or in shreds.

“My equipment!” screeched Pidge, rushing to asses the damage, nearly crying over broken tools. Hunk kept an eye on Lance, so she allowed herself to mourn over her implements, knowing he would take good care of their friend.

What a mess.

Not that Lance looked any better; his clothes were disheveled and slightly tattered in a few places, his hair tousled and a wild look in his eyes as he stared in the distance. He seemed to be present in Hunk’s embrace in body, but not in mind.

Rolo and Shiro, both in shock, took in the state of their camp, then the sight of furious young Holt cursing on every creature in the jungle. And finally the condition of their fellow researcher, already attended by Hunk. They went over to check on the boy as well.

“What the hell happened?” Inquired Rolo looking around the camp, waiting for the answer from the lost researcher. But Lance was unresponsive, lost in his thoughts, looking at trees before him.

“Lance?” Tried Shiro, taking in the whole image of the boy - tiny cuts here and there and few bruises forming under his skin. But other than that he seemed to be in one piece. Still, it was worrying. “Are you alright? We've been looking for you everywhere.”

No answer. Shiro and Hunk shared a look. The latter furrowed his brow, giving his absent-minded friend a concerning look, and then nodded to himself.

Time for more drastic measures.

“Lance!” yelled Hunk, slapping his cheeks.

That worked, Lance came back to them.

“Oh, Dios, oh, my quiznak. Oh! My sweetest quiznak, Hunk,” he grabbed his friend's arms. ”I was- meant to follow you guys. You know, go right after you. I was- little baby- little pretty monkey. So I sketched it, I drew a picture. A very nice one. Quite pretty if I may say, could be in a book. You know, an illustrated one. I thought it was cute, but nooo! It was a little diablo! Suddenly the brat starts crying, and I turned around and there's a whole fleet of them!” Lance got up suddenly, throwing his arms up, nearly hitting Shiro in the process. That intrigued Pidge, so she abandoned her equipment in favour of the show that Lance was inevitably about to put on.

“There's a garrison, an army of freaking monkeys,” Lance continued, “on one of those huge ass trees, screaming at me!” Now he bent and started moving around like a baboon, making monkey-like noises.

“That… That sounds like a baboon?” whispered Rolo.

“Mhm, definitely a baboon,” confirmed Pidge, nodding her head.

Shiro was impressed.

“Katie, you told me Lance is good with impressions, but this? Amazing.”

Hunk smiled at Shiro.

“Of course he's great! He's been babysitting his nieces and nephews for years, he's got every noise and voice covered,” he whispered. “Actually, you should have seen him reading Snow White, that was something. He was doing voices for everyone: the evil queen, Snow White, the seven dwarves… and each was different from the other!”

Pidge laughed, ignoring the monkey pantomime before her.

“I need to hear that. Hunk, you're gonna help me to make him read us something. Voices and all.”

Lance, not quite following their whispered conversation, looked at Pidge frowning.

“It's not funny, Gremlin! Terrified I was, terrified,” he threw his hands in the air. But then he spread his arms as if he was to take off, looking quite amazed with his own story. “Suddenly I was swinging in a vine, up in the air, swinging, soaring, flying, I was in the sky, up! Up! In the sky! Gravity had no power over me, for a moment there I was weightless! Oh! And then! And then! Suddenly! And we were all surrounded. And Shiro, they took my boot!”

Lance nearly showed his bare foot in Shiro’s face, clearly scandalized by the fact that the boot was stolen from him.

“Those- Oh, those were the ones you bought especially for this expedition, ones you liked do much,” observed Shiro. He heard a lot about those boots.

But Lance didn't really listen to him, too caught up in his story again, forgetting about his lost boot immediately.

“And I was saved, I was saved by a flying wild man in a loincloth.”

“A loincloth? What the hell,” muttered Shiro.

Rolo was confused by this sudden revelation, giving the boy a weird look as he kept babbling about some Tarzan or Mowgli, or whoever really. Poor Rolo had hard time following the story.

“What is he talking about?”

“I have no fucking idea. Probably his sexual fantasy, you know,” chimed in Pidge in a whisper. She had a lot of material on Lance. On everyone, in fact. But he was an easy target. “He'd come up with stories like that when he was drunk enough, he would overshare, not about men in loincloths of course, but-”

Hunk shook his head, interrupting her. “He's not drunk, Pidge.”

“Might have hit his head multiple times,” Katie shrugged again. She was ready to offer more hypotheses on why Lance would be talking about men in a loincloth, but the very same Lance had just shared an even bigger revelation.

“Oh! Oh, and there were galras!”

“Galras?,” Rolo picked up the topic. “You saw the galras?”

“Yeah, I think they might have been marmoras!”

Rolo caught Lance by his arms and shook the researcher.

“Where, Lance, where?”

“He left with them.”

“Who, Lancey, who?” Hunk asked gently, freeing him from Rolo’s grasp.

“Keith.”

“Keith?”

“The galraman. The Tarzan of Kerberos.”

“Uuugh, okay. Lance. How many times have you hit your head? And how hard?” Asked Pidge.

Lance started throwing Spanish curses at her, outraged by her assumptions.

 

While Lance and Pigde argued if his adventure was real or some kind of a wet daydream induced by a head trauma, dehydration or stress, far, far away from them, the galra gathered to listen to their leader.

“Everyone,” started the biggest galra, “we will avoid the strangers. Do not let them see you, and do not seek them out.”

“They’re harmless, Kolivan.”

“Keith, I don't know that.”

“But I do, I've spent some time with them.”

Kolivan frowned at his words.

“You may be willing to risk our safety, but I'm not.”

“Why? You're scared?”

“Protect this family, and stay away from them! Keeping to ourselves and staying out of sight has always been our way, ensured our safety and that’s how it will be.”

Keith was opening his mouth to argue with the leader when he felt a hand on his shoulder, caring but heavy.

“Keith, for once, listen to Kolivan,” pleaded Ulaz, which earned him a nasty look from Keith.

“Keith…”

“Don’t Keith me! How could you!”

  
“Well, arguing with Kolivan isn’t the wisest idea, let’s get to our nest, calm down,” tried Thace.

“You too! Did you know?!”

“What are you talking about, monkey?”

Thace and Ulaz exchanged confused glances, while Keith’s blood was boiling.

“What am I talking about?! Those _creatures_! That’s what I’m talking about!”

“What about those creatures?” asked Ulaz carefully.

“They’re my kind! All my life I’ve been thinking I’m weird but _I am not even your kind_ , apparently!”

Ulaz gasped. “No, no, Keith…”

“Why didn't you tell me there were other creatures that look like me?!” He yelled and run away, leaving his parent crestfallen. Ulaz could tell Keith felt hurt and it was breaking his heart. He never meant to hurt their little monkey.

“Let’s give him some space. And when he calms down... Well, maybe it's time to show him,” Ulaz heard Thace’s whisper, as his mate embraced him from behind.

“You heard him… I thought we did everything we could so he wouldn't feel any different, and yet…”

“Well, he isn’t blind. And maybe we tried, and we wanted to do everything to make him happy, but I guess we should have told him sooner… It’s time to show him, when he’s back.”

Ulaz nodded silently agreeing with his mate.

 

The sun began to set while Keith was running away to clear his head and as many river turns away Lance was trying hard to convince some sceptics around him that Tarzan was absolutely real and, now much calmer and collected, Lance tried to tell everything in more organised way, including very detailed description of Keith. Surely, sexual fantasies weren’t created in such fine details, right?

“Well, he didn't stand straight like us. He sort of crouched, like this. And he supported his weight like this,” he explained, drawing a silhouette for everyone to see what he had in mind.

“Like this!” Hunk was clearly amazed whether he believed in Lance's story or not.

The very same Lance, stressed for a millionth time: “ _Exactly like a galra!_ ”

“Extraordinary!”

“Oh, it was amazing! He moved this way,” Lance tried to mimic Keith's posture, “like this, guys, and then he walks, like this.”

Lance did his best to move around while still imitating the wildman, but it was far from the grace the Tarzan possessed as he moved.

“Shit, it’s more difficult than I thought. But that’s more or less how he moves, guys.”

“Oh, I see. This is really something!”

“What a discovery! A man with no language, no human behavior-” mused Shiro.

“And _NO_ respect for personal boundaries whatsoever!” Lance threw his hands in the air.

“Oh? What do you mean?”

“He was _this_ close, Shiro,” Lance nearly threw himself in Shiro’s face, ” _staring at me_!”

The young researcher turned to the blackboard and looked thoughtfully at the silhouette he drew.

“He seemed confused at first, as if he'd never seen another human before. He was clearly comparing our looks… His eyes were intense and focused and… I've never seen such eyes.”

He was terrified back then, but now that he remembered Keith's eyes they nearly gave him shivers for an entirely different reason. Lance wasn’t even aware he got lost in thought, looking at the wildman’s eyes on the blackboard as the drawn eyes were looking back at him. Between us, at that very moment he felt like he could stare at those captivating eyes forever. Preferably real ones.

He heard Shiro clearing his throat, a tinge of amusement in the sound.

“Oh, shall I leave you and the blackboard alone for a moment?”

Lance smacked the man’s left arm goodnaturedly.

“Shiro, stop it, silly! The point is, think of what we could learn from him. We must find him.”

“Oh, what are you talking about! You're here to find galras, not indulge in some adrenaline-high fantasy,” Rolo interrupted him, sitting by the fire with his arms crossed over his chest. He was clearly Team Pidge, as Holt doubted Lance's story, standing by her theory that the poor boy must have been seeing things in a rush of adrenaline, after hitting his head one too many times.

“ _Fantasy_? I _didn't_ imagine him! Tarzan is real! _Keith is real!_ ”

Pidge snorted.

“Seriously? Because that sounds like a wet dream of yours: half naked man taking you away on a liana to fuck you senseless in the wilderness.”

“For the last time, Holt! Keith’s _not_ my sexual fantasy. Although I admit he may become one…” Lance mused for a moment, and then shook his head violently, turning slightly red. “B-but that's not important! What is important is that he lives with the galras I believe to be marmoras, and we can learn a lot from him! I haven't made him up, he’s real! You’ll see for yourself!”

“Oh, come on, Lance. I love you and all, but you're not going to convince me you met a strange Tarzan-like guy living with the galras. Hunk, Shiro, don't tell me you guys believe it's a real story.”

“First, you should be nicer to him, he had a really hard and scary day. And about this Keith… I don't know, Pidge. Lance is so sure and serious about it, there may be some truth in it?” Hunk shrugged.

“Thank you, Hunk!” Lance beamed.

“Ugh, Shiro, please. Not you too. You don't believe Tarzan guy is real.”

“Well, Katie” started Shiro. “I’m not saying I do,” that earned him a gasp from Lance, one full of utter betrayal, “but I’m not saying I don’t. Some things my seem bizarre, but it doesn't mean that the whole story is just a fantasy.”

“Oh, _come on_ , Shiro-,” Pidge was about to express her doubts once again, but the leader of the expedition shushed her with a gesture.

“Let me finish, please. It's been a long and stressful day for all of us, especially for Lance, and maybe emotions and adrenaline made certain things look different from what they really were… No, no, Lance, I’m not saying you're lying or that you’re concussed, though I still insist you let us check it just to be on a safe side… Just hear me out. Both of you. Whatever it was, Lance met something, that is certain. Maybe it was a Tarzan man, maybe some kind of a monkey, new species maybe? Or… Lance did mention it could have been a marmora. Wouldn’t hurt to take a closer look if we meet this Keith again, we could learn something.”

“Hmpf, I’m still not convinced but what you’re saying is plausible,” sighed Pidge.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” All eyes turned to Rolo. “I keep hearing you talk about some marmoras, but what are they exactly? I thought we came here for the galras? And I may have heard something about marmora fairytale kind of thing?”

Pidge adjusted her glasses, getting ready for giving a short lesson on galra galra and galra marmora.

“And you’re not wrong about the galras, Rolo. They the reason we came here. You see, there’s a widely known species, galra galra, and that is usually what we mean when we speak about galras. But long ago there was this one man who claimed that the galra living here in The Kerberos Rainforest are more diverse, and named the other galras ‘galra marmora’. And galra marmora are those marmoras we're talking looking for. People didn’t believe him of course, but my father studied that man’s journal and decided it can't be something the guy just made up. They must be real, he thought. So he arranged the expedition... Well, you know the rest,” she finished, throat tight.

“So, it's like there are two different breeds of galra?”

“Yeah, something like that, to keep the things simple, yeah. Both are galras, just different,” supplied Lance.

“And they’re only here?”

“No one's sure. The Journal states they’re hard to find, really secretive, so maybe there are marmoras elsewhere, just no one’s seen them yet,” continued Pidge. “Their behaviour patterns described in the journal seem to be different to galra galra we know. Like the structure of the herd. For galras it's like every single member of the herd is subordinate to the pack leader, it's like the leader owns them. But from what we have gathered about marmoras, which is little, true, we can form a hypothesis that there is a pack leader, but members of the herd form internal family groups and are seemingly more independent from the leader. Hmmm… Those nests we’ve seen… Could belong to marmoras...”

Rolo gave them a cocky smile. “So marmoras are kind of galras with a nicer social system?”

“You could put it that way, yes,” agreed Shiro. “And I believe that now it's the time we call it a night. Lights out, everyone. We're getting up early tomorrow. Let's see what’s in the forest for us, be it marmoras or Tarzans.”

Now that the mood lightened and some things were made clear, everyone said their goodnights and went to their respective tents.

Lance moped around for a bit longer before retreating to his tent, so he could start his simplified overnight rituals to lift his spirits. After the bare minimum of his skincare routine was done, he put his sleeping mask on and buried himself in his sleeping bag.

Before the sleep took him, he wondered briefly about how his new Tarzan friend spent the night, without a warm sleeping bag around him and the shelter of a tent…

 

He woke up with a start, tearing his mask from his eyes, looking around disoriented. Was that a rifle? Or was it just his dream?

Then he heard it again.

He jumped out of his sleeping bag as fast as he could without breaking anything. When he emerged from his tent, Lance could see Rolo aiming his rifle. Others were also out of their tents, agitated and tense, yelling at Rolo or each other. He couldn't make sense of the scene. His eyes followed the direction at which the barrel was directed, and gasped in disbelief seeing a familiar silhouette.

Keith.

“No!”

Lance wasn't sure how he got there, not aware of his feet moving, but one moment he was barely out of his tent, and another he found himself trying to wrestle the rifle out of Rolo’s grasp. He didn't manage to get it but he was able to point it into a different direction just before the other man aimed again and shot.

Everything went still. No one dared to breathe.

“Rolo,” cut the silence, sounding partly fascinated, partly terrified.

While everyone were gaping and gasping in shock, Lance glanced over his shoulder taking in sight of very still and very tense Tarzan boy. He looked either ready to bolt or to attack. Lance just hoped that with options between fight or flight, if Keith were to follow his instincts, the wildman would settle for the latter.

Rolo cleared his throat, regaining his ability to speak.

“Have… Have we met?” He sounded uncertain, seemingly being at loss what to do.

“Ah, it's him, it's, it's Lance’s wildman!” Hunk nearly hyperventilated while shaking Pidge who was just gaping at their late night guest in disbelief. Shiro seemed frozen in place, staring both in wonder and shock.

“How does he know my name?” Rolo gave the wildman a look full of suspicion.

“He thinks ‘Rolo’ means the sound of a gunshot,” explained Lance finally managing to take the rifle from Rolo and throwing it far from man’s reach. He took a few slow steps towards his Tarzan. “So, everyone, this is Keith.”

“Lance.” The wildman seemed to relax a little hearing his name and recognizing the researcher, within seconds coming impossibly close to bump their heads in what seemed to be a greeting.

 

To tell the truth, Keith still felt tense and ready to either run away or fight for his life being surrounded by strangers, but seeing a familiar face put him at ease a little. Not to mention that he was curious about other Keith-like creatures around him. But first, gotta test the waters, and it seemed like Lance could help with that, so he tried his best to look friendly and gave him a smile.

“Yes, hola, ah, um, hello, um, Keith,” stutterd Lance taken aback by the suddenly reduced distance between them. Also, the smile. That was a surprise, but a nice one. The wildman seemed pleased to see him, that was good.

Lance smiled back.

Keith was about to do something, when suddenly he jumped with a pained yelp and turned around with a swish, baring his teeth and hissing at Pidge who stood behind him with a handful of black hair, grinning, very pleased with herself, but jumped herself with a fright when the wildman turned his attention to her. And before anyone could react to that, Keith bolted, getting onto the nearest tree with the speed and grace many gymnasts could wish to possess. The wildman disappeared among the leaves.

Lance tried to run after him.

“Keith! No, Keith! I’m sorry! Please, Keith! Come back! KEEEIIITH! COME BACK!”

But Tarzan boy never did.

“No, no, no, no, nonononaaaagrh! PIDGE! HOW COULD YOU?! WHY?!” Lance was fuming.

The grin returned on the Katie’s face. “Samples!”

“OF. WHAT?!”

“DNA, duh,” Pide rolled her eyes as Lance started throwing curses in every language he knew in her direction (but mostly in Spanish).

That started the general commotion as everyone had something to say (or yell) on the matter of the wildman.

 

They had no idea that they were put under the scrutiny from up, up above.

Under the cover of the night and leaves, Keith allowed himself to watch those terribly loud creatures (how do they manage to stay alive, making do much noise?), eyes narrowing every time they fell on the short one who pulled at his fur. To he honest, he probably deserved it - he disturbed them in their nest in the middle of the night, so getting out of there with just a few hairs missing was something he should consider himself lucky. Him being relatively unharmed probably had something to do with Lance, who was just screaming at the short one making many weird noises Keith hadn't heard from him yet. He also noted that Lance was the loudest of the bunch - maybe it was important in their tribe? Way to establish dominance?

Is this how this ( _his?_ ) kind of creatures work?

Apparently not, as the one with a weird limb Keith figured out to be a leader, given the respect everyone showed towards him and the way he stood there confidently taking charge, didn't raise his voice. Sure, it was stern and demanding, but he wasn't yelling. Maybe screaming was a thing for other members of the pack. He watched curiously how the leader calmed the creatures down, feeling the authority even up, up away in his tree. They haven't interacted and Keith wasn't sure now if they will anytime soon, but he already felt respect for this one.

He eyed the others. One that pulled his fur looked rabid: eyes shining behind those weird, glass circles, excessive excitation clear in rapid gestures and fast moving mouth, producing sounds with an outstanding speed, although much quieter than a moment before. Keith scowled a little then moved to look at Lance. Lance had his arms crossed, pouting like a little marmora that was denied a ride on the back from their parents. Keith found the sight a bit funny, but nice. He kinda wanted to poke Lance's face now. But he wouldn't dare to go down - rabid creature aside, next to Lance was another - big and soft-looking one, patting Lance's back in a soothing manner. He couldn't be sure, but they looked as if they were close, and if those creatures were anything like his family, then he knew from experience that those are the most dangerous - seemingly too nice to hurt a fly, but totally savage when you did wrong their friends or family in their eyes. Keith flinched. Given the creature’s size, it would be risky to cross that one. Lastly, his eyes fell on the one who used rolo and made the scary noise. He didn't look particularly harmful, but he knew that with rolo in hand that one could be dangerous. He remembered how scared Lance looked when he saw that one pointing rolo at Keith.

Keith touched his head where it hurt after the rabid one pulled his hair and winced. Maybe he really should listen to Kolivan for once.

With that thought in mind, he made his way to his family nest.

 

While Keith was sneaking out, the group down below was discussing this unexpected visit.

“You surely scared him! Now he’s never coming back!” Lance was mad at Pidge. What if Tarzan boy decided it was more trouble that it was worth it and will never show up again? All those things they could learn from him! “And you,” Lance pointed his finger at Rolo, “stop shooting at everything that moves because someday you’ll kill someone! You almost killed Keith! But I guess it doesn't matter now that someone surely scared him away for ever!”

“Oh, please! He will come back. Or we’ll just throw you to the baboons and he'll come for the rescue.”

“Pidge!”

Shiro winced hearing Lance’s screeching, but grinned couldn't help himself from teasing his team member a bit.

“That might just work. Now I’ve seen what you mean about those personal boundaries!”

“Shiro! Stop it! This is serious! She just scared away a great discovery! And for what? A handful of hair!” Lance pouted, putting his hands on his hips. He wasn't sure if he should look troubled and miserable or stern and pissed off.

“But I have his DNA now! I can run tests! See what he really is! He could be the missing link!”

“Or our link to the galras,” Rolo gave her a sly smile. Hunk eyed him with suspicion.

“Hell, yes! I can't believe Tarzan is real!” Holt was clearly excited.

That interrupted Lance’s internal struggle. He put his arm around Katie with the most impish grin known to mankind.

“Oh, Pidge, is he now? You sure? It's the middle of the night, maybe we’ve all hit our heads and just shared the wildest wettest dream, huh?”

“Eeew! Go fuck yourself, Lance!”

“Gladly,” the researcher smirked at her.

“Can you two stop being, like, five-year-olds, so we can wrap up this late night Tarzan party and go back to sleep?” watching his friends’ antics, Hunk looked both fed up with them and tired. Shiro thought it must be nothing new to him.

“NO!” Pidge and Lance yelled in unison.

Shiro sighed. He was also exhausted. And sort of done.

“Enough, five-years-olds, stop quarreling and go to sleep. It's past your bedtime anyway. No, Pidge, you don't have to run the tests now, you can do it in the morning. And yes, Lance, you were right, and we're sorry we didn't believe you, you can rub it into our faces for a whole day tomorrow. But now… please. Just go back to your tents and try to get some proper rest, all right, everyone?”

Pidge and Lance eyed each other, then looked at Shiro and song-sang in perfect sync: _Yes, dad!_ And then they disappeared in their respective tents. Just like that.

Hunk came over to Shiro and patted his shoulder.

“Goodnight, Research Dad.”

Shiro groaned. A move to the left caught his eye.

“You too, Rolo. Sleep. We’re gonna need you awake tomorrow.”

“Gotta check a few things.”

“You secured the camp just fine.”

“Not fine enough, it seems.”

“Well, you were thinking about wild animals, not a wildman and a quite intelligent person as it seems.”

“Can't deny it. You go to sleep, Shiro. I'll do my stuff and then hit the hay. Gonna be as good as new tomorrow, I promise.”

Shiro nodded and headed to his tent. He laid back trying to relax his muscles as much as possible and started breathing deeply to calm himself down. The whole day was stressful and this nightly commotion didn't do his demons any good.

It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? :3
> 
> You can find me also [here](http://nanamo.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


	3. Stranger Like Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith learns about his roots while the research team learns about the wildman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank my lovely beta [Bells](http://ohbells.tumblr.com/) for her invaluable input and support.  
> Also, congrats to her as she got her master's degree a couple of months ago! <3
> 
> I'd like to thank you as well for all the lovely comments that kept me going. I treasure them greatly. <3

Slowly, the wildman made his way through the dark rainforest thinking that he probably should reconsider his choices. His aching scalp was enough of a reminder that rushing into things didn't really serve him well.  He was both incredibly mad at his parents and equally excited by the Lance he discovered today (and not only him, it turned out there were more of those “lances”, as he dubbed the rest of the creatures for the time being), he hasn't really thought it through, before disturbing their nest in the dead of the dark time, when the moon was wide awake. 

 

Keith knew his curiosity wasn't an excuse, but he couldn't help himself. He was anxious to know more about what seemed to be his kind.

 

It was the very first time in his entire life that he met someone like him. He wanted to know more. He  _ needed  _ to know more. It seemed that Lance was equally curious as well as happy to see him again but the but the creature’s heard (family?) clearly didn’t share these sentiments. Not that he was surprised, given the whole ordeal. 

 

He sighed wondering if they would welcome him if he tried again when it was up. He felt that Lance would.

 

But there was no time to dwell on it, as he finally came home.

 

 

Silently, Keith made his way through the rows of nests of members of his herd, mindful not to disturb anyone’s sleep. Silently, he climbed carefully into the one built by his family, his moves slow and calculated - he didn't want to wake anyone. But the second he got there, Ulaz raised his head. The wildman sighed. Damn him for being a light sleeper. At least Keith had tried.

 

He glanced quickly at Thace, who was snoring softly, dead to the world, and then back to Ulaz. He kind of expected a lecture from his parent, but looking at his face, expression full of relief and care, he figured out that maybe not this time. Or at least not until the sun would wake up.

 

“I was worried about you,” Keith heard Ulaz say softly and felt a tiny pang of guilt. 

 

Mad and with anger clouding his judgement, he hadn’t even considered his parents' feelings. Of course, they would be worried about him - hadn’t they always been? Even more so, after an encounter with the unknown species that could be potentially dangerous. And Ulaz and Thace always made sure he was safe and happy. Yes, Keith still felt hurt they had never told him about his origins, but maybe he shouldn’t have run away like that and instead have a heart to heart with his parents like a mature marmo… or, well, whatever he actually was. He ducked his head moving closer to him, allowing Ulaz to run his fingers through the black mess of his fur.

 

“I… I’m sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you and run away,” Keith closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of his parents enveloping him. It was nice, it was safe. Oh. Safe. Right.  “And question Kolivan like that,” he added like an afterthought.

 

Ulaz looked at him fondly. “Well, I believe Kolivan deserves his own apologies. And as for me - I’m just glad you're back. I understand that you're upset as I probably would in your place, but that doesn't change the fact that I was worried sick about you.”

 

Keith bit his lip.

 

“Even if I’m nothing like you…?”

 

“ _ Keith _ ,” said Ulaz softly, “you may be a different kind of a creature but it doesn't matter. You'll _ always _ be my little monkey.”

 

The wildman hid his face in the marmora’s fur. They were lying just like that until the older one decided to continue.

 

“We thought it was for the best,” he started silently, apologetically, “we wanted you to be happy so we didn't say anything. But now I see it wasn't the right thing to do. Forgive us, Keith.”

 

“I… I understand. I mean, I’m still mad you never told me, but I understand. And… I want to know more. Everything. Everything that there is to know.”

 

Ulaz hummed in agreement.

 

“It's late now, we should go to sleep. When the sun wakes, we'll talk more about it and I’d like to show you something.”

 

“Show me something?”

 

“Yes. But this will have to wait until the sun wakes. Sleep now, little monkey.”

 

Keith nodded and, burying his face in the fur of his parent, allowed sleep to take him. It was easy in a safe, warm nest.

 

He briefly wondered if Lance’s weird nest was also like this.

  
  


 

Morning light usually reveals everything that night concealed and brings answers, but for Keith, it brought only another mystery and more questions. 

 

After Ulaz made him apologize to Kolivan and stuffed him with fruit to the brim, and Thace gave him a piece of his mind for a good measure and for a show, they parted from their herd. Ulaz was secretive and wasn't willing to give Keith any explanation yet, so Keith just followed him in silence, wondering where they could be going and feeding his growing curiosity with musings about the thing he was about to be shown. He also tried to get something out of Thace but failed.

 

The only clue Keith had was the smell - he could smell the saltwater scent getting stronger and stronger, so they were heading somewhere to the outskirts of the forest.

 

He was expecting to go to the sand near the saltwater, so it surprised him when Ulaz has started climbing up the huge tree. He followed him curiously, feeling Thace’s presence right behind him.

 

The higher they climbed, the weirder the tree got, unnatural. There was some wood attached to the bark, leading high up the tree. Keith didn't know what to make of it until they reached the upper branches of the tree, veiled by the thick cover of leaves.

 

Hidden there was a shelter of some kind which reminded Keith of those he saw in Lance's nest, except this one was made of wood and much bigger.

 

“What is this place?”

 

“That's where you came from,” came the simple explanation form Ulaz.

 

“Where we found you,” added Thace.

 

“You found me here?” Keith tried to look at Ulaz as he spoke, but couldn't keep his eyes from roaming around this place. It was both foreign and familiar. He saw broken things scattered around, seemingly left and forgotten in a hurry and untouched for a long, long time, as they were covered by dust. Some of those objects were similar to those he saw in Lance's nest.

 

“Yes. Heard your cries and came here. I mean, Thace and I.”

 

“And we couldn't leave you alone, we saw you and knew you're our little monkey,” Keith felt flustered hearing Thace’s voice, filled with affection and mirth.

 

“I’m not a monkey…” He muttered grumpily, not knowing how to hide his embarrassment. He never did when Thace got that sappy.

 

“Neither am I. But alright, I'll keep silent for now so Ulaz can show you around and explain as he’s better at this sort of things. I’m just glad we're here together,” Thace smiled at him. “We should be here together, this is the place where the roots of our family are.”

 

Keith felt slightly abashed, as he always did with how open Thace was with his affections, but returned the smile, feeling a nice kind of warmth blooming in his chest. He might have been something else, an entirely different creature, but he definitely belonged with his family, the marmoras.

 

But at the same moment, the question arose. Keith furrowed his brow.

 

“Was I alone?” And if so, _why_? Where were the other creatures that must have been his birth parents? And his herd? Did they leave him alone? Abandoned him? Why? Those were the questions he didn't dare to ask aloud.

 

Thace exchanged glances with Ulaz and sighed heavily.

 

“Not quite.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Your... Parents, as we assume,” interjected Ulaz, “were here, but… they were no longer able to take care of you.”

 

Keith furrowed his brow at this confusing answer. He wanted to ask for more explanation when Thace dusted the wooden ground of the nest. Old paw prints and blood stains were an answer to his unasked questions.

 

Robeast.

 

Keith felt the shiver run down his spine. He knew this predator and what it was capable of. Knew that it wasn't a painless death. They had been lucky if it was a fast one.

 

Lost in those grim thoughts, he nearly jumped feeling a hand on his shoulder. Thace.

 

“I’m sorry. We’re sorry,” his parent said quietly.

 

Keith glanced at the blood stains and then back at Thace and Ulaz. Traces of the parents he never knew, and the parents that were the only family he knew. How different his life would have been if things had played out differently?

 

“It must be a lot to take in… And quite shocking, I suppose,” added Ulaz softly, putting his hand on Keith’s other arm. “We’re so sorry. Would you… Would you like a moment for yourself here…? Alone?”

 

Keith bowed his head, not saying anything for a while. When he finally said something, his voice was silent and small.

 

“I… I never knew about them and until now, I just thought I’m just weird-looking, and not a totally different, separate creature... So I don't know what to think about it,” he said deciding there’s no use in wondering how different his life would be if the robeast had never came here, “and… um. What I want to say is I’m glad to have you.”

 

He kinda regretted those words (however true they were), instantly becoming the object of their affection. He loved them, but sometimes they were too embarrassing. After his fur was ruffled in every direction, and his life hugged out of him, Ulaz asked him an unexpected question.

 

“So? When are you going to see those creatures that look like you? If you haven't already?”

 

“What?!” Keith felt so busted. And taken aback. He would expect this kind of question from Thace, not Ulaz.

 

“Come on, _monkey_ , we've known you for far too long,” teased Thace. “So? You saw them again, didn’t you?”

 

“I… I don't know. I went back last night but, uh, it wasn't the best idea, they were sleeping and…”

 

“Oh, Keith! Invading someone’s nest in the middle of the sun’s sleep! That's not how I raised you!”

 

The wildman cringed hearing Ulaz laments.

 

“I know! I know! I’m sorry! I just wanted to look around, I... “ He sighed. “I know it was stupid.”

 

“It was,” admitted Thace, looking more amused than perplexed by Keith's poor etiquette, “but the question still stands. When are you going back, because we all know you will?”

 

“But… What about Kolivan? He told us to stay away?” Keith raised his brow. It was not like his parents to go against the leader.

 

Thace shrugged while Ulaz’s expression became a little sour.

 

“Well… As much as I generally respect him and see his point… I also recognize your need to discover more about your kind. Even if I’m scared and not really enthusiastic about you defying our leader,” admitted Ulaz.

 

“Scared?”

 

“Well, they could be dangerous, Keith.”

 

“They could,” admitted Keith, remembering what happened previous night. Rolo was obviously a dangerous thing. “But… I really want to learn more about them. About me.”

 

“Then go. Just be careful.”

 

Keith smiled at Ulaz. He knew it must have been hard for the other to let him go like that and wanted to say something comforting, something to show how much this means to him, but didn't get to it when Thace showed him playfully, deciding to interrupt the conversation.

 

“Come on, off you go, little monkey. Find your kind, I bet they must be curious about you. Especially the one you came with yesterday. Looked sad to see you leave.” He winked.

 

Keith rolled his eyes. He knew what Thace was getting at, but he wasn't interested in the mating business. Not that he would mind much if such occasion presented itself, it would be another new experience, but it wasn’t his true purpose, at least not for now. He wanted answers first. (And if the image of a blushing Lance with dishevelled fur and his pretty saltwater eyes had appeared in his mind, Thace didn’t have to know about it.)

 

And so he went, after bumping his head with his parents in a farewell gesture.

  
  


“Do you think it’s a good idea?” Ulaz asked his mate while watching the disappearing figure of their son.

 

“I have no way of knowing it. But you know it’s nearly impossible to stop him when he sets his mind on something, so if there’s anything we can do, it’s supporting him in his decision and watching from afar.”

 

Ulaz sighed.

 

“You’re right. Besides he’s a grown marmora now, even if I keep forgetting it.”

 

Thace hummed, deep in thought.

 

“Yeah. No one prepares you for your kid growing up, huh?”

 

They stood there for a while, contemplating their role as parents under those circumstances.

  
  


Many, many liana manoeuvres away from Thace and Ulaz, Keith had no idea what to expect. It was making him nervous. He could meet all of them (hopefully without rolo involved), but their nest could be empty as well. But maybe he would meet Lance. It would be good. They had bonded a little, and he clearly meant no harm. It would be easy if it was just Lance.

  
  


Little did he know about the heated discussion the research team had had in the morning, nor about the agreements they had made. For starters, Rolo’s usage of a gun was restricted to dangerous animals only. Definitely, no shooting at the wildman, although Hunk, unable to shake off the feeling that there was something off about their bodyguard, thought that the man should be banned from their team entirely. (He may have been a pleasant companion with many stories to tell, but his eagerness to shoot was rubbing the researcher in a wrong way.) Secondly, they all came to a conclusion that there always should be someone in the camp, in case Keith showed up. They figured out they would take turns, so no one would be excluded from exploring the jungle. But coming to an agreement on who should go first wasn't that easy.

 

Pidge wanted to stay so that she could start running tests, which Lance instantly vetoed, insisting that her presence would scare the wildman away. Instead, he volunteered to stay, as he had already connected with the local Tarzan population in the person of a singular Keith. They started arguing, so Shiro did the only thing that came to his mind to determine who would stay first. He held a lottery. 

 

To the huge dismay of both Lance and Pidge, the lucky winner was Hunk.

 

Hunk was both pleased and terrified. Sure, he could stay and avoid all the dangers that came with actively exploring the wilderness, but he would be alone there. Also dangerous. The abovementioned wilderness may come and get him.

 

So Hunk devoted himself to various tasks around the camp to keep himself occupied and to ease his mind. After cataloguing the plant samples he had collected carefully, and wondering about their use in the kitchen, he figured out that cooking something would be the thing to do - others would be hungry when they came back and he would have something to busy his hands with. And so, Hunk started preparing a meal, while talking to himself.

 

Having an actual conversation with oneself was a bit weird, but so was cooking in silence. Hunk was too used to having someone hanging around the kitchen as he cooked and the chit-chat that would be filling the air (or sometimes singing if it was Lance) to keep his mouth shut. Silence didn't belong to the kitchen, it was unnatural.

Talking made him less anxious, he felt himself relax a little. Good, he didn't need to be on his toes all the time. As he was running through the motions, telling himself what he should do next or wishing he had more spices, he failed to notice that the wilderness indeed came to him.

 

It wasn't until he turned around to grab a spoon that he noticed he had company. Hunk wouldn't admit it later, but he jumped giving an undignified yelp. So did his guest.

 

They froze, watching each other warily, carefully, in case the other was about to do something potentially threatening.

 

After a few long minutes of watching Keith, Hunk slowly put his hand over his heart and exhaled. Okay. It was just Lance's Tarzan, who saved the other researcher from the baboons and delivered him safely to the camp. Nothing to worry about. Also, a bit of a creep who would appear unnoticed in the middle of the night or in the broad daylight when you least expect him, but okay. He was a wildman, after all, he could be forgiven for the lack of manners.

 

Hunk could see Keith slowly relax, despite being a little tense in the shoulders. Seeing how rigid the Tarzan was, Hunk thought it must have been hella painful. The guy could use a massage.

 

Hunk started laughing, the nerves getting to him, leaving poor wildman confused.

 

The researcher gave the other man a friendly smile and pointed finger at him hoping it wasn’t rude to do so among the wildmen.

 

“Keith.”

 

The wildman seemed surprised but gave Hunk a little nod.

 

“Keith,” he pointed at himself with pride, then motioned in Hunk’s general direction, raising his brow.

 

“Hunk.”

 

“Hunk,” repeated the wildman, as if testing the word on his tongue. 

 

“Yes!” The researcher encouraged Keith.

 

“Hunk,” he said with confidence that made Hunk smile even more.

 

“That's right, buddy, that's right…”

 

Keith only titled his head to the side, seemingly confused with Hunk’s words.

 

“Okay,” tried the researcher, showing the other a thumb up.

 

Keith mimicked him. “Okay.”

 

Well, this was going to be fun, huh? Hunk took in the sight of the wildman before him. 

 

Just like Lance had said, the other man carried himself more like a galra than a human, but after intently looking at Hunk, he corrected his stance. Keith indeed possessed finely defined muscles Hunk’s fellow researcher almost wrote poems about, but Hunk was surprised by how small the wildman really was - he thought Keith was much bigger and beefier, but maybe it's just that the night makes everything seem bigger and scarier. Another thing that matched up with the image conjured by Lance were the eyes peering from underneath the mop of dark hair. They were searching. Hunk could see wariness still lingering in them, but also a great deal of curiosity that was slowly overcoming the wildman’s aloofness. Finally, the researcher was free from the wildman’s piercing gaze. Keith probably deemed him safe enough to take a look around the camp.

 

“Lance?” Hunk thought he could hear hope in his voice.

 

“Sorry,” he said slowly, giving wildman his most sympathetic look, shaking his head a little. Hunk wondered briefly if it was a natural gesture or if it came with being socialized. “No Lance.”

 

“No Lance?”

 

“No Lance. Just Hunk,” the researcher confirmed, pointing at himself hoping it would make the message clear.

 

Keith looked slightly disappointed and Hunk was afraid it was just a matter of seconds before the wildman would be gone. But then he came up with a quick solution.

 

“Food?” The researched asked being a firm believer that the food and eating together is what brings people together. However wild they would be.

 

If only he could get his intentions across to the confused wildman. But Hunk wasn’t a person who gave up easily. He pointed at the pot, then at his mouth, and performed a great pantomime of eating, silently thankful for those few times he helped Lance babysitting his nieces and nephews when they played puns for hours.

 

Hunk wasn’t certain if the wildman understood him, but apparently, it was enough to catch his interest and make him stay. And probably question the researcher’s sanity, if he had a concept of one. Whatever. It worked. 

 

Having Keith’s undivided attention, Hunk made a slow move to take two plates and took his sweet time to serve the food, making sure to name each item he used. He could feel wildman’s eyes following him the whole time.

 

Hunk pushed slowly plate towards Keith going through the pantomime again to indicate it’s food and turned around to grab a fork for the wildman. He heard a sudden yelp. Hunk turned around to witness Keith’s pained pout as the wildman waved his burnt hand in the air.

 

The researcher laughed.

 

“No, silly!  _ No _ ! Don’t eat with your hands! Use the fork!” He gave the wildman a fork while still laughing. Keith responded with a puzzled look.

 

“Ah, guess it’s your first time using a fork. Okay, okay. Look,” Hunk raised his own fork presenting it to the wildman. “A fork. Now. Fork. Food. Mouth. Eat.”

 

“Fofoo…?”

 

Oops. Too fast, Hunk.

 

“No, no.  _ No _ .  _ Fork _ ,” the researcher pointed the cutlery and proceeded his further presentation in such manner. “ _ Food _ .  _ Mouth _ .  _ Eat _ . See? Like this.”

 

Being a model of a proper way of eating was something Hunk quite enjoyed.

 

“Oh, still pretty hot. You can blow on it. You know.  _ Blow _ ,” he explained by showing the wildman how to cool down the food on the fork.

 

Keith was watching him intently for some time before measuring his own plate with a serious and sort of suspicious look. He eyed the fork Hunk gave him and followed the researcher’s example. His grip on the cutlery was terribly awkward and couldn’t be too comfortable, but he managed to get some food into his mouth.

 

His eyes went wide.

 

“Aaand? Good? Okay?” Hunk asked curiously, emphasising the ‘okay’ part with a thumb up.

 

“Ophay!” managed the wildman with a full mouth, mirroring the researcher’s gesture. 

 

And started eating with gusto.

 

Hunk chuckled over his own plate, observing the wildman. It came to his mind that it had probably been Keith's first warm meal in his entire life. That worried him. What if it won’t agree with him? He was eating so fast. What if he got a stomach ache? Maybe some herbs for a better digestion would be in order. Yeah, better put a kettle on.

His train of thought was interrupted by the sounds of Keith licking off the plate.

 

“Oh, my! Keith,” he laughed, “no! You don’t lick your plate off! People don’t do that!” He paused. “At least not officially, and usually not in the company of others, but I have no idea how to explain that to you.”

 

Keith looked at him, perplexed. The researcher sighed wishing he was better at finding ways of nonverbal communication. Lance was so much better in that department. Okay, he had no other choice but try.

 

“Good food? Okay?” He asked showing the thumb turned up again, for the sake of clarity.

 

Keith mimicked him, flashing him a smile, apparently content with the meal. “Okay.”

 

“Good,” nodded Hunk returning the smile, and preparing himself for another round of charades and pantomime. “Drink?”

 

“Drink?” The wildman titled his head.

 

“Drink. Wet. Water? Mouth. Drink. Gooood,” he tried his best to convey the message with gestures, checking on the kettle. Ah, perfect timing. He brewed the herbs. “This is gonna take a while. A minute, you know? Time.” He pointed at his watch.

 

Keith tentatively approached the curious item.

 

“Makes no sense to you, huh? Figures. I wonder if you even have a concept of time in that head of yours…” Hunk questioned aloud what earned a curious look from the wildman. The researcher shook his head gently. “I don’t know. I don’t know how to explain it. Time. We wait.”

 

“We wait.”

 

“Yes, Keith. We wait.”

 

Hunk wasn't sure if the wildman understood him at all, but at least he seemed to be at ease around him. Keith started to examine the various utensils laying all over the table and seemed intrigued by Hunk himself.

 

The researcher remembered Lance's words, so he offered his palm to Keith as if to give him a high five. The wildman instantly put the hand under careful scrutiny and placed his own palm against the researchers’, comparing them with avid interest.

 

Hunk wasn't sure what to do next, so he did the first thing that came to his mind - he showed his tongue to the wildman. Hopefully, he wouldn't get offended? This clearly surprised Keith, but he didn't seem to take it as a lack of tact on the researcher's side. On the contrary, he seemed thrilled to notice another thing they had in common, and in turn, presented his own tongue.

 

Hunk laughed. It seemed he was doing well.

 

They continued this game for a while, presenting various body parts to each other: teeth, ears and eyes and, in the end, Hunk ended up with the wildman's hands in his hair, but quickly found out that the man was reluctant to let the researcher touch his own black mane. Well, no wonder when he remembered the treatment Keith was given by Pidge.

 

“Okay, Keith. Now we  _ drink _ ,” The researcher supported his words with a pantomime. He had the impression that the wildman understood him this time. Hunk poured the herbal infusion into two mugs and gave one to Keith, setting himself as an example and sipping the beverage first. The wildman followed his stride and took a sip himself.

 

Hunk, being the nosy man he was, didn’t let his eyes off Keith, observing as the other man eyed the mug curiously, clicking his tongue twice as if considering the potential taste and, upon deciding it could be good, drinking the whole mug in one go. Initially, the researcher was surprised, expecting disgust from the wildman, but he quickly figured that the herbal taste and scent must have been somewhat familiar to Keith. He lived in the jungle after all, probably ate lots of plants. Or did he, really?

 

That led Hunk to wonder what was the wildman’s everyday diet. Meaty? Did he hunt? Or maybe it consisted mostly of fruits and other plants?

 

The researcher was looking for a way to find out, but before he came up with an idea, the wildman suddenly run off into the jungle and disappeared.

 

“Woah! Wait! Keith! Buddy,  _ wait _ ! Quiznak, did I do something to offend him? Oh, shi- I hope I haven’t given him a food poisoning.” Hunk looked around the camp looking for any signs of Keith in the trees and bushes but found none.

 

He was worrying himself sick, thinking he did something wrong, until he was hit with a bunch of bananas. In his head.

 

“Aw! What the hell?! Where di- Oh! Keith!” Hunk was exhilarated seeing the wildman as he landed on the table before him. “You’re back!”

 

“Food!” Exclaimed proudly Keith, pointing at the bananas sitting safely in researcher’s hands.

 

“Food? Oh!  _ Oh _ ! Right! Bananas! Food! Oh, are those for me?” Hunk pointed at himself.

 

Keith furrowed his brow thinking for a minute and responded, although a little uncertain, “Hunk. Food. Yes, okay. Hunk food. Food Hunk.”

 

Now, that got the researcher excited. The wildman seemed to be a quick learner. And Hunk couldn’t deny that he thought it was very sweet of Keith to bring him the bananas.

 

“Thank you, Keith!” Hunk gave him the biggest smile almost feeling his face splitting in half.

 

Seemed worth it, as the wildman looked very proud and pleased with himself. It also looked like the acceptance of his gift encouraged him to continue further interactions with the researcher. Keith was on the verge of saying something else but, the fleeting moment was ruined by the sound of a rifle.

 

“Rolo!”

 

“Yeaaah, Rolo is at it again. I swear I don’t like this guy, the others say it’s all in my head, but my guts are definitely telling me there’s something fishy about him.”

 

Another sound of a rifle. And some raised voices.

 

“Oh, for fuck’s quiznaking sake, I- Oh, don’t worry, buddy,” said Hunk tenderly seeing as the wildman curled in himself hearing the sound approach. “No harm will come to you. I promise. We’re friends now, right? Come one, buddy. You’re with me? Keith?”

 

And then the wildman bolted.

 

“Oh. Fantastic,” the researcher grumbled. “Guess there’s no use asking him to come back now, is it? Fucking Rolo.”

 

Hunk could hear from the distance that Shiro, Lance, and Pidge agreed with him on that matter, at least to some extent.

 

“And Rolo, no shooting unless we’re facing  immediate danger, understand?”

 

“But what if something’s lurking-”

 

“My decision is final.” Hunk was never so happy to hear Shiro’s stern voice. The man used it scarcely, but when he did, you knew it’s better not to fuck with him.

 

“But-” Rolo was not giving up. Hunk rolled his eyes.

 

“ _ Final _ !” Yes. Gooo, Shiro! Gun ban for Rolo!

 

When the team finally appeared on the brink of the camp, everyone’s faces were sour; Rolo’s probably for an entirely different reason than the other three. Hunk couldn’t say he felt particularly sympathetic towards him.

 

“Hi, Hunk,” grumbled Pidge, eying Rolo who went to his tent, leaving them to their own devices.

 

“Hi, what’s going on this time?” 

 

“Someone loves his rifle too much. One of these days  _ I swear _ I’m just gonna shove it up his ass,”  huffed Lance, before the smell of delicious food got his attention. “Dios, I’m hungry. Is the meal ready yet? Oh! Oh, bananas! Can I get one?”

 

“Help yourself. But I cooked something more substantial if you wanna.”

 

“Nah, something sweet first to lift my spirits, you know. How about you, Shiro? Pidge?”

 

Pidge just shook her head plopping herself on a folded chair.

 

“No, thank you,” Shiro sounded very tired as he responded, taking a look into the pot. “That smells great, Hunk.”

 

“Thank you.” Hunk took in the view of three forms of various stages of exhaustion and discouragement. “Intense day, huh?”

 

The other three groaned in response.

 

“It was a disaster! We found nothing interesting for our marmora studies and we almost spotted some creature, but this loco bodyguard of ours decided shooting was a brilliant idea!” Lance took a vicious bite of the banana probably imagining himself biting Rolo’s head off.

 

Hunk furrowed his brow.

 

“Well, I’ve been telling you for some time. I don’t like this guy.  _ Something _ about him  _ isn’t right _ . He’s too eager to use his gun. And he’s  _ suspiciously _ interested in marmoras…”

 

“Ah, about that, don’t be too hard on him Hunk. He came here not knowing much, it’s only natural he’s curious. I would be too in his place,” Shiro tried to placate him.

 

“Maybe you’re right… But honestly, I don’t trust him and don’t feel safe at all with him shooting at every leaf. Was he seriously the best The Institute could find for the job?”

 

“Well, I guess not many are willing to go into the Kerberos Jungle,” sighed Pidge. “But maybe we could suggest some changes? Shiro?”

 

“I’m not sure if it’s even possible at this point, but I’ll surely bring this up with Allura or Coran…”

 

“That would be great, man,” smiled Hunk, but his expression fell soon. “So, summing up, nothing but unfortunate ill-timed shooting today, huh?”

 

“Yup,” confirmed Lance. “And how was your day? Damn, these bananas are good. Where did you get them, by the way? Didn’t think you would be adventurous enough to leave the camp on your own. Not to mention that the point of our agreement was not to leave it.”

 

That put Hunk in a good mood again. It was just what the researcher was waiting for when his teammates came back to the camp! Okay, time to brag a little and lift their spirits up.

 

“Oh, these are a gift. I had a visitor,” Hunk smiled widely, and laughed at various expressions of “no way!”.

 

“Keith? Was it Keith? He came back?” Lance was hopeful.

 

“Yup! Seems like it takes more than a little gremlin to scare the guy away!”

 

“Hey!”

 

“You earned that one, Pidge,” laughed Shiro. “Now, Hunk! How did it go? Have you two interacted? Tell us all about him.”

 

And Hunk did so with pleasure. The events that took place in the camp made the four of them brimming with excitement and new energy.

 

“No way, he tried talking to you! He basically tried to build a simple sentence,” mused Holt. “That’s amazing! Oooh, I need to run this test like, right now.”

 

“Seems like he’s a fast learner huh? Interesting.” Shiro looked thoughtfully at the chalk drawing of the wildman that still graced the blackboard.

 

“I told you my Tarzan was intelligent,” Lance looked so proud as if he had raised Keith himself. “Too bad he didn’t stay longer… I wonder what made him leave...”

 

“Uh, about that… He run away when he heard the gun…”

 

“Quiznak!  _ I swear _ I’m breaking this rifle of his!”

 

“Calm down, Lance, I think we have the matter of the rifle settled. No more mindless shooting,” assured him Shiro. “And I promise to tell Allura.”

 

“Good. Okay. I’m staying in tomorrow. I want to meet Keith again. If he made friends with Hunk so quickly, I wonder how it will go when he meets me again.”

 

 

***

 

 

The next day Lance waited.

 

And waited. 

 

And waited. 

 

No one came. 

 

He was disappointed. But who knew, maybe Keith has some important jungle business to attend to. 

 

Maybe some other time.

 

Yeah. 

 

 

***

 

 

Pidge was thrilled. That day was her turn to stay at the camp. She had to admit that the tests results were somewhat disappointing - the DNA she managed to get from Keith was all human. Not that it was unexpected, but deep down she hoped for something different, some sign of evolution, new genes to study, new species to analyze.

 

The truth was nowhere near as exciting, but no less interesting. There still were many questions: how the wildman ended up here in the jungle? How was he getting by? From her data she was able to estimate his age, he was their coeval. More or less.

 

Lance said he was living with the galras, possibly with marmoras. For how long? Since the early years of his infancy? Or maybe they took him in later? According to both Lance and Hunk, he lacked social skills, at least by human standards, but was intelligent enough to imitate behaviour or words, and try developing new ways of interacting based on what he had learnt. So a man with no human behaviour and no language, but motivated enough to connect and acquire new skills.

 

Well, Keith was no marmora, but he definitely was a mysterious case Katie was willing to investigate.

 

And who knows? Maybe if they managed to communicate with him, he would teach them about the forest? Maybe he would help them study marmoras?

 

Busy with her musings, she disappeared into her tent to grab some notes, ignoring the rustling of the trees.

 

And that’s how she missed the arrival of her guest.

 

When she emerged from her tent, she was rewarded with a sight of the wildman crouching on the table, playing with her stuff.

 

No.

 

Oh. No.

 

_ Hell _ no.

 

If there was something she hated, it was definitely when people messed with her tools. Holt rushed to the table, roaring:

 

“HANDS OFF MY EQUIPMENT!!!”

 

The startled wildman nearly fell off the table but managed to regain his balance somehow. He curled his spine and hissed at Pidge. This time she wasn’t afraid.

 

“Keith!  _ Don’t touch _ my equipment!” She addressed the man, her voice cold and serious. “Or I’ll rip your balls off,  _ I swear _ .”

 

The wildman looked confused but tense, clearly, his fight or flight instincts were battling each other. Katie sighed. She wanted neither.

 

“Listen, I know we had a bad start and… Of course, you can’t understand me. _Fuck_.”

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Keith repeated, putting a lot of emotion behind the sound, unknowingly sharing her sentiment.

 

The researcher laughed.

 

“They’re going to kill me but at least I’ll die knowing I taught you the most important word. Well, okay. Let’s keep it simple. Me is Pidge.”

 

That earned her a raised brow. 

 

“Fuck?”

 

Fuck. Fuck her foul mouth and fuck that parrot of a wildman. What should she… Ah!

 

“No,  _ no _ . Pidge,” Holt pointed at herself and then motioned towards the wildman. “Keith.”

 

The mystery of Kerberos pointed at her, “Pidge.”

 

Bingo. She gave him a big smile.

 

“ _ Yes _ .”

 

The wildman considered her for a while, carefully eying to the sides.

 

“Lance? Hunk?” 

 

Oh! That was new - Keith was asking questions of his own, no more repeating after someone! That got Katie excited. It was simple, of course, but could potentially lead to something more advanced.

 

“No. Not here,” she said and had to hold her laugh seeing the biggest scowl she could ever imagine gracing the wildman’s face. “But wait. Hunk left food for you.”

 

That got man’s interest.

 

“Hunk food?”

 

“Yes, Hunk’s food. For you. For Keith. Hunk’s food for Keith.”

 

“Hunk’s food for Keith,” he repeated, tentatively looking around, apparently reluctant to leave Pidge out of his sight for too long.

 

“There,” Katie pointed at the other table. The wildman moved there, keeping the researcher in his visual field, which she interpreted as him being suspicious of her. Holt rolled her eyes but couldn’t say she was surprised.

 

Keith helped himself to the sandwiches pre-made by Hunk.  Pidge had no idea how, but he made the simplest food look like some gourmet shit and hella appetizing.

 

Even the wildman couldn’t resist.

 

It was kind of funny, observing him. Keith apparently enjoyed those sandwiches so much he wanted to take his time, to indulge in the meal, while simultaneously wanting to devour them, swallow in one bite, all while keeping his eyes one the researcher, clearly not trusting her in the slightest.

 

Pidge snorted turning towards her table, busying herself with notes, pretending she wasn’t looking at him at all. She had no idea if Keith bought it, but it seemed like her feigned lack of interest made him relax a little. Katie occupied herself with her notes, hastily making new ones, casting glances in the wildman’s direction. She noticed Keith licking his fingers, contentment clear on his face. The guy was quite entertaining in his uninhibited ways. Like a big child. Or inebriated Lance. She averted her eyes when he started looking around and bit her lips thinking he was about to leave.

 

Suddenly he was on the other side of the table, her table, ( _ shit _ , he was  _ fast _ ) and picked up something from the ground. A bunch of bananas. 

 

Kinda sweet of him. 

 

Or clever. 

 

Whether it was a sign of gratitude or a form of barter, it was likely that Hunk providing him food could be a way of keeping Keith coming back. She noted that, wondering what she should do next, feeling the wildman’s eyes on her. Pidge interpreted it as an invitation to some kind of an exchange and asked conversationally:

 

“Good food?”

 

“Good food,” he answered and it looked like he did it consciously, like he understood her intent and actually responded using the vocabulary he had without mindless repeating. She smiled at him.

 

“Good.”

 

And she was back to scribbling her notes. It was risky - Keith could take it as lack of interest or being rude and that could possibly make him leave or… He could feel more at ease and stay. 

 

So a gamble.

 

He stood there for a good while, still alert around Pidge, but eventually the wildman started to look around, curiosity taking the better of him. Katie pretended to be busy with her notes, observing him with a corner of her eye as he got the courage to explore while keeping her in his line of sight, just in case.

 

Keith carefully inspected the items laying on the table before him but was hesitant to touch any of them. He couldn't have understood what Pidge said about the equipment, but her tone was surely enough to make him keep his hands to himself. Maybe he just didn’t like her yelling. Which was understandable but also kinda ironic, given how much noise he could make with that hissing of his.

 

When Pidge hadn't disturbed him, Keith seemed to gain even more courage, freely roaming around the camp. She watched him peeking tentatively into their tents (just a bit, never daring to even stick his head, not to mention going inside), picking up things he possibly haven't considered to be a piece of equipment (which made her wonder what key was he following to determine that) and carefully putting them back in place after meticulous inspection (which gave Katie a good laugh whenever he scowled in distaste after licking one thing or another).

 

Holt allowed him to look around for a little longer before trying to get his attention.

 

“Hey, Keith,” she said, trying to keep her voice nice and even. He looked at the researcher raising his brow, suspicion growing. She gestured, hoping to get her point across better. “Come here.”

 

The wildman seemed to understand, as he neared closer to the table, although gingerly. Pidge laughed.

 

“Not going to bite you. Or pull your hair. Promise.”

 

“Promise?” Deadpanned Keith, probably unamused by the string of unknown words she threw at him rather than questioning what she said, but it made her laugh anyway. She got a displeased groan in response.

 

“Okay, okay. Look,” Pidge tried to get him interested instead of suspicious by showing him a sheet of paper. “Look. Paper.”

 

“Lookpaper.”

 

“Um, no.  _ No _ ,” she shook her head and slid the sheet towards him trying not to roll her eyes when Keith moved back from the table (seriously, how long would it take them to get over the bad first impression? She thought she was doing well to make him comfortable around her!). “ _ Paper _ .”

 

The wildman carefully touched the sheet with one finger and, seeing it won’t do him any harm, he took it in both hands putting the paper under a closer inspection. And of course, licking it. Pidge couldn't help herself laughing heartily seeing how disgusted he looked, smacking his tongue against his lips a few times. Keith gave her a nasty look.

 

“Will you ever learn not to lick things? How many times have you disgusted yourself today already?” Katie shook her head. “Nevermind. Look.”

 

Certain she had his attention she grabbed one of her pencils and presented it to him.

 

“Pencil.”

 

“Pencil.”

 

“Good,” Pidge praised him and started scribbling on her own sheet of paper. That got Keith genuinely interested - she saw him watching the traces pencil left on a paper with a childlike awe. The researcher smiled and rolled the pencil towards him. The wildman grabbed it awkwardly immediately putting it to use. He left a mark and snapped his head looking at Holt, raising his thumb up.

 

“Good?” It was more of a demand than a question, but she wasn’t going to complain.

 

“Good,” she nodded curtly, also showing him a thumb up. “Very good.” 

 

And then Keith grinned, losing himself to scribbling with passion. He looked so ridiculously proud of himself when he managed to leave the first streak of graphite on the paper that Katie couldn't help but smile - sincerely, without any sign of mockery. It was nice seeing someone so openly enjoying what they were doing, and expressing the joy of succeeding in a simple task in such a straightforward way. Again, one could say there was a certain charm in Keith’s uninhibited ways. She wasn’t surprised that Lance became quite smitten (in her opinion, which he adamantly denied) with his saviour after the baboon adventure anymore.

 

But back to Keith.

 

Pidge was glad he was enjoying himself but the way the wildman was holding the pencil irked her, she almost could feel her own hand aching just by looking at it.

 

“Hey, Keith. Look,” Pidge called for his attention. When she was sure she got it, she dared to lean a bit closer to him, just to give him a better look at how she held a grip on her pencil. “Hold like this.”

 

Then she put her pencil on the table and picked it up slowly, making sure Keith could see how she positioned it in her hand. The wildman was watching her with a hawk-like gaze. It took him a few attempts, but in the end, he held his pencil almost right. But not close enough for Pidge. She wanted to try a few things, and if Keith could hold his pencil right, it would be very helpful.

 

“Almost there, _almost_ there, let me correct your grip before we move forward…” 

 

But when she moved closer, reaching towards him with her hand, the wildman, apparently more alerted than he looked, hissed at the researcher and bolted.

 

Katie’s shoulders slumped.

 

“Fuck.”

  
  
  


“The fuck, Pidge! You did WHAT?!” Everyone winced and covered their ears. That boy could reach unholy volumes.

 

“Ugh, I’m sorry, Lance, _okay_? I thought it was okay to do that!”

 

Shiro raised his head from examining the sheet of paper full of childlike scribble, to look at his quarrelling companions, trying to assess if his intervention was needed. Sometimes he really felt like he had a bunch of kindergarten kids under his care, not a team of researchers. Beside him, Rolo was eyeing the lines of graphite left on the paper with his arms crossed over his chest. He was obeying the shooting restrictions Shiro imposed on him, which improved his relations with the team (except Hunk, maybe - he still felt their bodyguard was a suspicious fellow). It also seemed that, despite his initial unwillingness to the subject, he also got interested in the case of the Tarzan of Kerberos, not complaining about the researchers losing the main focus of the expedition anymore.

 

“He seemed to be doing fine with scribbles. And it's not like it's something that demands a correct grip?” Asked confused bodyguard.

 

“No, it doesn't. But I wanted him to try drawing some lines, maybe simple shapes like circles and triangles. And I thought it would be easier if he used a tripod grip, that's all.”

 

“And you scared him away!  _ Again! _ ” Lance shouted, throwing his hands in the air. Hunk thought his friend felt probably a little bit salty about him not seeing Keith the day before.

 

“Oh, leave me alone, Lance! My intentions were good, how could I know he’d misunderstand?” Huffed Pidge, eying Shiro who chuckled. 

 

“Oh, I wonder, Katie.”

 

“Ugh, okay. But it’s not my fault he’s petty and holds grudges.”

 

“Petty or not, I would also be careful around a stranger, especially the one who pulled my hair before. I know you wanted to try something new, and maybe teach him something, but better remember to keep your hands to yourself until he fully trusts you. Okay?”

 

Pidge nodded and rolled his eyes when he heard Lance's muttering, doubting the wildman would be back ever again.

 

“He was asking about you and Hunk, I’m sure he’ll be back.”

 

That shut Lance up and made him smile a smile so bright it could blind a man. Naturally, it confirmed Katie’s theory that, her fellow researcher was into wild men in loincloths, apparently, but Hunk wasn’t completely unaffected by the news either.

 

“Oh? About me?” He inquired. “That’s sweet of him but why would he ask about me?”

 

“He seems to like the food you make, big guy. Oh, and he brought bananas again.”

 

Hunk was pleased both by Keith's approval of his cuisine (even if today’s menu was nothing fancy, just sandwiches) and the gift. He took the fruits and headed to their designated pantry, wondering what he can make for the wildman next time.

 

“Well, it seems like our new friend has scheduled his visits to every second day? And probably won’t be coming tomorrow?” Mused Katie.

 

“So, does it mean that the whole team is going to head out?” Asked Rolo.

 

“No,” answered Shiro after thinking for a little while. “I think that someone should be here, just in case. Lance? I was thinking - I’ll stay tomorrow, and you’re gonna be here the next day. Sounds good?”

 

The researcher gave him a little smile. It was clear Shiro was giving him an opportunity to meet Keith, as his first camp watch was unsuccessful. Lance was very grateful - he really wanted to see the wildman again, as he was terribly curious about him, wanted to get to know him better. And properly thank him for saving his life from the baboons. And, well, he felt a bit privileged since Keith was sort of his… discovery. He was the first person to meet him after all. (And he definitely hadn’t been thinking about his Tarzan’s marvelous physique now and then, nope. No matter how much Pidge teased him about that, his thoughts were as pure as the first snow. Purely scientific. Yeah.)

 

“Yup, that’s perfect. Thanks, Shiro.”

 

“You’re welcome,” the team leader returned the smile. “But just in case, Hunk? Could you prepare something? Better have some snacks on me if Keith decides to shake up his routine a bit.”

 

“No problem! Maybe something with the bananas he brought? Besides, you're gonna need lunch as well, I’m not gonna leave you starving, man.”

 

“Thank you, Hunk. Now, that all is decided, let’s sort the samples we gathered today, eat something and rest, okay? Oh, and Rolo, come to me after the meal. I want to show you tomorrow’s route. I’m leaving my team under your care.”

 

“Of course. I’ll do better than my best. You can count on me, Shiro,” the man assured him with a smile.

 

 

***

 

 

Maybe their focus indeed shifted a bit after discovering Keith, but they never lost the sight of the main goal of the expedition. They were still studying marmoras. 

 

Or, at least, trying to, as it was not so easy. They discovered a few more nests arranged in the same fashion as those they considered to be marmora’s, and, with help from Rolo who put his instincts and tracking skills into something different than shooting, they found some more signs of galra activity. However, deciding whether they were left behind by galra galra or galra marmora, however, was hardly possible with the data they had. Every guess was as good as the next one. Not to mention the sightings - none. Zero. Null. The only likely sighting was the one that Lance witnessed when Keith brought him to the camp after their infamous baboon adventure.

 

That made Shiro return to the origin of their expedition - the old journal. After giving his report to Coran, he sat at the table to study the notes of the man who was the very first and the only one to document the existence of marmoras two centuries ago. It wasn’t the first time Shiro was flipping through the journal - he knew it quite well since the times of the First Expedition - ut he was convinced it wouldn’t hurt to browse through it again.

 

Maybe it would give him more to clues as to where to look, or maybe inspire him to take a new approach to their search?

 

Shiro was reading, deeply engrossed in the journal, when suddenly he felt a presence somewhere behind him. Feeling his stomach clench and blood roaring in his ears as his pulse rate picked up, heartbeat erratic, the researcher closed his eyes and willed his breath under control. After a few deep, yet discreet breaths, he slowly turned around to see what was behind him.

 

Which turned out to be an uncertain, shy looking man in a loincloth, cradling a bunch of bananas in his arms.

 

Keith.

 

Shiro felt a wave of relief washing over him. 

 

_Holy quiznack_. Keith. 

 

_Just_ Keith. 

 

_ Okay. _

 

He could do that. 

 

The researcher took in the man before him - Keith kept himself low, eyeing him carefully, his body language seemed to be respectful, submissive even. Interesting. Did he see Shiro as an important figure in their group? He wondered how the wildman came to such a conclusion. He couldn’t recall behaving particularly leader-like nor taking charge the night Keith visited their camp. It was Lance who took the reins then. So why? Was he watching them in secret and witnessed something that made him think that? Or was it just that he was taller than Lance and Pidge? But on the other hand, there wasn't much of a height difference between him and Hunk. Who knew. But that wasn’t important much at that very moment. Those musings were for later.

 

Shiro wanted to embolden the wildman so he smiled but, fuck, that hurt. He had no idea he was clenching his jaw or, at least, not that he was clenching this hard. One day some dentist would make a fortune on him. Anyway, a friendly smile was gracing his lips, check. Then he added a small hand wave as an afterthought.

 

Either way, it seemed to work, as the wildman returned his smile and waved back a bit shyly. So far so good.

 

“Hello.” The researcher greeted his guest, confusing him at the same time.

 

“Hell… oh?”

 

“ _ Hello _ . Hello, Keith.” Shiro pointed at him while saying his name. The other man furrowed his brow as if he was thinking hard about something. The researcher waited patiently. 

 

It was definitely worth it.

 

“Hello,” he tried looking at Shiro as if gauging his reaction, and probably finding what he was looking for in his face, because he continued. “Hello.”

 

Then the wildman pointed firmly at Shiro which was sort of funny coming from seemingly an adult man, at least by human standards. It took the researcher a lot of effort not to laugh, but he managed to compose himself and delivered what he assumed Keith wanted to know - his name.

 

“Shiro.”

 

“Shiro.”

 

“Yes,” he nodded in confirmation. “Shiro.”

 

Keith muttered something low under his breath, then looked curiously at the researcher, saying a bit hesitantly:

 

“Hello. Shiro.”

 

“Good! Very good!” The researcher grinned widely feeling proud of the wildman. 

 

“Hello, Keith!”

 

It seemed the wildman was equally pleased with his achievement and repeated, this time boldly:

 

“Hello, Shiro.”

 

The researcher clapped his hands then showed the other thumbs up.

 

“Good, good! Very good. Now come,” Shiro called him with a gesture. 

 

Keith looked hesitant. He looked around before inquiring:

 

“Lance? Hunk?” Then he wrinkled his nose. “Pidge?”

 

Shiro laughed heartily seeing the look on the wildman’s face. “No Pidge, no. No Pidge, you’re safe from hair pulling. And sorry. No Lance either,” he answered and seeing how Keith’s expression shifted from relieved to disconsolate, added hurriedly, “Hunk left you food.”

 

“Hunk? Food?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Hunk’s food for Keith?”

 

Shiro laughed, patting the portable folding chair on his right.

 

“Yes, yes. Now, come here.”

 

That seemed to encourage Keith, despite his lingering reserve. Slowly, he came closer to the chair, examined it with interest and looked over at Shiro. The wildman put bananas away on the table, plopped himself on the chair and straightened his back, mimicking the researcher’s posture.

 

Shiro slowly pushed a bowl towards Keith. That time on the menu was an oatmeal with bananas and nuts. Hunk wanted to show the wildman something new, and use the fruits he was given while having no means to create any more complicated dishes or desserts (not to mention that he didn’t quite trust Shiro in the kitchen, having witnessed him burning things a few times). Eventually, he settled on something easy to prepare which could be eaten without heating up.

 

Keith sniffed the meal and raised his brow. Shiro thought he looked not only a bit surprised, but also frustrated - it seemed like he wanted to ask a question, but lacked the words. Finally, the wildman pointed at his bowl, then at his nose and bananas he brought while looking at Shiro as pointedly. The researcher gave him a little smile nodding. It was quite admirable how determined he was in his attempts to communicate. With motivation that high, Shiro thought, teaching him a language wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities.

 

“Yes. Bananas.”

 

“Bababas?”

 

“ _Ba-na-nas._ Ba. Na. Nas,” he repeated slowly pointing at the fruit and waited for Keith to try again.

 

“Ba. Na. Nas. Bana… nas. Bananas?” It seemed like the wildman was looking for confirmation and guidance from Shiro.

 

“Yes. Bananas. Good,” the researcher gave him a smile. “Very good. Now. Let’s eat.”

He probably spoke too fast or used a word Keith didn’t know because he was looking at him evidently lost. Okay, think, Shiro. How to make your message clear, how did the others… Ah. Right. Support everything with gestures or objects.

 

He pointed at the oatmeal and looked at Keith.

 

“Food,” he said and thought that that much was clear already, as the wildman showed understanding of the word earlier. Okay. Now, time for a pantomime. He pointed his mouth, making sure he’s got Keith’s attention. “Eat.” Then Shiro pretended he was chewing something. He thought he could see something clicking in wildman’s head as he looked like everything made sense now. Good.

 

The researcher gave him a spoon. The utensil was put under immediate scrutiny, organoleptic examination in order. After finding out probably all qualities a spoon could potentially possess, Keith looked at Shiro, presenting his spoon.

 

“No fork.”

 

That took the researcher aback.

 

“No fo…  _ Oh _ !” Now, that was extraordinary! “I see! A spoon.  _ Spoon _ ,” he said, pointing his own.

 

“Spoon.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Spoon. Spoon… eat food.”

 

Now, that was something.

 

“Eat food with a spoon. Yes. Ah, ah, ah, no! No stabbing. You stab with a fork. Use a spoon like this.”

 

Shiro showed him how to use the spoon correctly, and noticed that the wildman’s grip was indeed awkward, but it hadn’t been impeding his learning process so far. Maybe they’ll teach him later, but for now, he refrained from correcting his grip. And refrained from any other form of physical contact for that matter. He was going to wait for Keith to make a move first.

 

They ate in companionable silence enjoying their oatmeal for a while, Shiro discreetly observing the wildman and trying to figure out how to proceed when they’re finished. He could see Keith watching him too from under his bangs.

 

The researcher smiled thinking how different but alike they were the same time.

 

Keith finished the meal first (that boy was ravenous - either he was this starving or Hunk’s food was simply that much to his liking) and glanced curiously at Shiro. Or rather his right arm, as the researcher supposed. He had no idea if it was plain scary or just an interesting oddity to the other man.

 

By that point, Shiro was well used to people staring at his arm in various ways: curiously and bordering on nosey, disgusted or scared, troubled, pitiful... It didn't bother him, not much, not anymore, nor did the actual lack of the missing limb. He had learnt to live without his right arm, not without a struggle though as it was his dominant one. He remembered how difficult it was to learn everything anew, how many times he felt like giving up during his battle with both the reality that would ceaselessly present new obstacles on his way, and with his internal turmoil. But he persevered and in the end, his prosthetic turned out to be more than enough. (Vicious dreams that invaded his sleep were another matter. He wondered if they will ever stop bothering him at night.) So, apart from being used to being stared at, he wasn't going to hold it against someone who had never seen a thing like this. In Keith's world missing a limb was probably a death sentence…

 

The researcher shook off his grim musings and decided to try something. Slowly, he outstretched his prosthetic arm, palm up and open, towards the wildman. It seemed like Keith was both fixed in place and ready to bolt at the same time, but after a while, when it was clear Shiro wouldn't do him any harm, he looked at the limb and then at the researcher.

 

Shiro smiled, hoping it was encouraging.

 

The wildman answered with a smile of his own, carefully, somewhat bashfully. And then, after a short while in which he seemed to be gathering his courage, he gingerly touched the researcher’s hand, watching it with an avid interest. Seeing no resistance from Shiro, the wildman got bolder and started to feel the palm, and even manoeuvred it so he could put it against his own.

 

That made Shiro smile. From what he gathered, it was a part of wildman's ritual by this point (unless you were Pidge and he didn't want to get within your hands reach). Meanwhile, Keith moved on to the other hand, giving it roughly the same treatment. Judging from the wildman’s furrowed brows, and the uncertain glances he kept casting between one palm and another, it was clear he confused. Keith glanced at the researcher, carefully pointing at his right hand.

 

A question.

 

Telling the story of his missing arm was never Shiro’s favourite thing - it was always inevitably bringing back the memories he didn't want to revisit. And people were curious, nosey even, always asking questions, often forgetting themselves. But Keith didn't demand a story from him and Shiro felt like the wildman would be more understanding and respectful than anyone back at home. A simple answer would do. But how to convey it?

 

The journal caught Shiro's attention. Perfect. He took the book and found illustration he was looking for.

 

“Robeast,” he explained, showing Keith the picture of the animal. The wildman scowled hissing at the sight. Shiro guessed, he was familiar with the beast.

 

Then, Keith surprised him. He placed his palm on the researcher's shoulder and looked him straight in the eye. What struck Shiro the most was that he saw compassion in the wildman's eyes, a compassion free of pity. But not only that. He has also found awe and admiration in them, one coming with knowledge of the danger the beast was.

 

Shiro nodded in acknowledgement and decided to take a gamble - he placed his hand on the wildman’s and squeezed it gently. For a second he was sure he saw uncertainty and readiness to bolt reflect in Keith's eyes, but he got a squeeze back a moment later.

 

The first contact made.  Well done, Shiro.

 

(Well, not being Pidge probably helped a lot. Being Lance would probably help much more.)

 

The researcher gave Keith a little smile which the wildman returned and they let go of each other.

 

The next few seconds left them in awkward silence, as they both had no clue what to do next.

 

Finally, Shiro broke the eye contact and turned to close the journal, deciding it would give them a moment to recollect themselves and find some way to manoeuvre their interaction further. Reaching for the journal, he noticed the wildman bending slightly forward, eyeing the book curiously.

 

Oh? Maybe this would help?

 

Shiro slowly pushed the journal towards the other man. Bingo. Keith grabbed it curiously and opened it, tenderly touching the pages.

 

“Paper.”

 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, right! Paper. Lots of paper. A journal.”

 

Keith gave him an unamused look.

 

“Oh, sorry. Um, okay. This,” Shiro said taking one page between his fingers, “is paper. Okay? Paper. And this, “he continued, taking the whole thing in his hand, “is a journal.  _ Journal _ .”

 

He handed it over to the wildman.

 

“Journal.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Journal,” repeated Keith, assessing the thing that was now in his hands. “Journal.”

 

Then he opened the book and started looking at the words and occasional pictures with an avid interest. That allowed them to continue their interaction and the somewhat accidental language lesson, as Keith kept pointing at the drawings that caught his attention. Shiro was more than happy to indulge him.

 

With the next page turned, the most unbelievable thing happened, and it gave Shiro some hope concerning the expedition.

 

There was a drawing picturing a few marmoras. When the wildman saw it, his eyes went wide with recognition. He looked at Shiro pointing sharply at the picture.

 

“You know them!” The researcher beamed. “Marmoras!”

 

“Marmo…?”

 

“Marmora. Galra marmora.”

 

“Marmora… Marmora…” Keith kept parroting while looking at the picture in awe. Then he looked at Shiro, jabbing himself with his index finger. “Keith marmora!”

 

The researcher couldn't believe his ears. Was he dreaming? 

 

But no. 

 

Keith had just identified himself as a marmora. 

 

What that implicated was beyond his imagination. Wait till Lance would hear his theory of a man raised by marmoras was true all along. But before Shiro managed to find a response to this sudden revelation, the wildman visibly faltered, guilt written all over his face. That alarmed Shiro.

 

“Keith…?”

 

The other man shook his head and pushed the journal away, slowly leaving the portable chair. Shiro had thought the wildman looked sad when he raised his head to finally look at the researcher after taking a few steps back. Sad and uncertain.

 

“Hello…?” Keith said silently giving him a small, unenthusiastic wave.

 

“Oh…” Shiro felt sorry for a clearly conflicted wildman. It seemed that finding the research team so similar to himself, he wanted to get in touch with them, but it wasn't exactly something he should probably be doing, given how secretive the marmoras seemed to be.  But there probably was nothing he could do but play along and hope for the best. 

 

He mirrored the other man. 

 

“ _ Bye _ . Bye, Keith…”

 

His voice and gestures also bore the traces of sadness.

 

“Bye, Shiro,” the wildman said reluctantly and with that done he was gone as swiftly and silently as he had appeared before. The researcher felt like he woke up from some bizarre daydream.

 

Only the bunch of the bananas was the proof that their meeting even had place.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miraculously, here comes an update! Last few months were hectic due to issues at work and wrist injury. Well, at least now my hand is okay.
> 
> Anyways, how did you like this chapter? Which encounter was your favourite? Don't be shy and let me know in the comments. :3 And fear not! Keith and Lance will meet again in the next chapter (hopefully it won't take as long to update <3).
> 
> You can find me [here](http://nanamo.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr (even if I'm not as active as I used to be lately).


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